The Gilded Phoenix
by LadyAureliana
Summary: Riza Hawkeye has done her best to lead her own life. She's even taken on a new name to do so. However, when newly promoted Colonel Roy Mustang is transferred to Eastern Command, somehow her secrets no longer feel so safe. Then, things start to go horribly wrong. Royai.
1. Prologue

**AN:** This is an idea that has been bouncing around my head for a little while now. It is my idea for an altered back story for Roy & Riza and would take place largely before the main events of FMAB or the manga.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA, only my idea.

 **ALSO:** Feedback is welcome and appreciated. However, this is my first fanfic...ever. Just FYI.

* * *

 **Prologue**

It was a beautiful day, seemingly in spite of the circumstances that brought them to a cemetery. The sun shone brightly; as though it approved of the choice she made and wished to tell everyone. The sky was lovely and clear with only the occasional cloud flitting across the great blue expanse. A light breeze rustled the trees, altering the patterns of sunlight splayed on the soft, green grass. The sound was comforting, relaxing, encouraging.

She was hardly listening as the pastor droned on about death, the great equalizer, and something about ashes and dust. He spoke of rebirth, the circle of life, and some other nonsense. Words, words, and more words that were meant to tell them all is well, that this is normal. In reality, she was hard-pressed to believe anything could fill this void. She felt empty, for more reasons than one.

After adjusting her sunglasses, she pushed a stray lock of shoulder-length brown hair from her face, and wound her arm through that of her grandfather. They shared a look that said they were both ready for this day to be over. Looking away from the coffin, her eyes fell on a young man with short black hair (the attractively unruly kind) directly across from her. His arrival had surprised her. She had expected neither him nor his mother to attend. Why would they? And yet, here they stood. Admittedly, he looked rather dashing in his military uniform. At least he had the decency to resist checking out the other women.

She tore her eyes away from his downcast face, scanning the crowd. Not many had come to the funeral, but still more than she had expected. Certainly more than attended the father's funeral before that – but he was so well-hated that was hardly a surprise. Not even her grandfather was present at that one. "We've never been on good terms," she remembered him telling her. She could not blame him. That guy was a grade-A asshole. She still found it hard to believe he had ever come across an apprentice willing to put up with his crap and live in that shithole.

Her grandfather slowly made his way to the front of the group and faced everyone. Then, he began to share what few memories he had of the deceased, his beloved, golden-haired granddaughter. He talked of how he always wished he had more time with her and could have gotten to know her better. He described how gracious she was, her kindness, and how much she cared. As he spoke, more tears spilled from his tired eyes than his living granddaughter thought possible.

When he came to her illness, speaking became even more difficult for him. But he was a soldier, and a strong man, so he forged ahead. He explained that she had even attempted to refuse her cousin's offer to care for her when she fell ill with whatever killed her father. His brown-haired granddaughter felt tears welling in her eyes as she watched him speak and heard such beautiful words.

She knew she should say something, knew that it was expected and that the other guests were waiting. They all, of course, believed she had cared for the young woman in her final months. But, she could only wave off the expectant faces, looks combining sympathy with curiosity. However, she was overcome by emotion and her grandfather returned to her side to embrace her, reassuring her that everything would be fine.

A life so short, yet already over. A life she had known precious little of and would never have the chance to know any better. Standing at her own funeral, in her grandfather's arms, Riza Hawkeye knew her life would never be the same again. There is no going back.

Through the haze of her own tears, mourning the life she could have had, she heard her grandfather's voice, "Let's go, Elizabeth. It's time to leave."

* * *

Well, that is what I have so far. I hope someone finds it, reads it, and enjoys it!


	2. An Unwelcome Surprise

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA

* * *

 **An Unwelcome Surprise**

"I'm going to hurt you for doing this to me," Elizabeth declared, with a smirk, addressing her friend who just approached from her right.

"How do you always know when I'm coming?! I even took my shoes off!" Rebecca exclaimed, with a chuckle. "And hey, don't forget, you agreed to this. You said, one time offer, for my birthday, anything I say goes."

"But a skirt of the military uniform variety? It's kinda constricting. And heels?! Do you hate me or something?" Elizabeth replied, feigning frustration.

"Liz, you said _anything_. Remember?" She then added, with a laugh, "I half expected you to cut a slit in it to better accommodate your precious thigh holsters."

"I very seriously considered it, but I'm already carrying 4 weapons. I thought two more might be overkill."

"You are truly terrifying, do you know that? P.S. We are going dancing TONIGHT. No bailing!"

Liz, with a small smile in response to the "no bailing" demand, added, "Just keep all this torture, and the fact that I'm so intimidating, in mind. _My_ birthday is coming up too, lest we forget."

Rebecca's playful look of fear was interrupted by the arrival of General Grumman. Both women snapped to attention, saluting crisply.

"At ease ladies, and good morning," the General began. "And Liz, darling, I think the skirt becomes you."

Rebecca made a face aimed at Liz, as if to say, "See! Don't be such a hardass!"

"Thank you, General," Liz replied, smiling, whilst telling Rebecca to shut up with her eyes. "But if it in any way impedes my duties as your aid and bodyguard, I will never wear one to work again. Regardless of whose birthday it might be." This last was spoken with a somewhat threatening look directed towards Rebecca, who immediately recalled that it was not for nothing that her friend was known as the most deadly sniper Amestris had ever seen.

"Well, General," added Rebecca, "we have quite a full schedule for you today. The police need to speak with you regarding the break-in at your home a few weeks ago. In addition, the higher-ups want us to look into a series of break-ins and thefts at various military facilities. Apparently they feel the police have not investigated adequately. So, you have a meeting or two regarding that today as well as a lunch meeting focusing on the impending transfer of some young officer from Central."

"Oh right!" interjected Grumman. "That reminds me. Lt. Jackson, I need to speak with you in my office for a few minutes at some point today."

"Very well, General," replied Elizabeth.

"And after that," Rebecca continued, "we have some paperwork we need you to finish up and then you're free to go, sir."

"Thank you Lt. Catalina. Let me just do a few things and I'll be ready for that first meeting. Let the police officer come through to my office after about 15 minutes."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

The day flew by rather quickly for all three members of the small team. They performed much like a well-oiled machine: efficient, accurate, and in perfect sync. Lts. Jackson and Catalina even managed to get the General to all his meetings on time in spite of his personally rather loose definition of what "on time" means.

Throughout the day, Elizabeth and Rebecca frequently tried to guess what Grumman needed to talk to his granddaughter about. Her birthday _was_ coming up, but she preferred not to make a big deal out of it: she hoped there was no birthday party of any kind in her near future.

A couple hours after his lunch meeting, having emerged from his office to deliver some completed paperwork to his staff, Grumman beckoned to Elizabeth to follow him back into his office. After the door to his office was closed, the General's posture relaxed and his face visibly softened.

"Liz, there are a couple things we need to discuss. More specifically, they pertain to the serial thefts and the upcoming transfer of that young officer that Rebecca mentioned earlier."

"Ok. All due respect though, grandfather, I'm not sure what all that would have to do with me in particular."

"What makes you think this is not entirely work related?"

"Well, you switched to grandfather mode pretty quickly," Elizabeth replied. "That usually means we're on personal ground for the time being."

"Eh, you got me. But first, are you both still coming to dinner for Rebecca's birthday? Before you go dancing, that is?"

"Yes I believe so."

"Good. You girls deserve a night out," Grumman affirmed. "Now, to 'business,' as it were."

Elizabeth was becoming increasingly wary as the moments passed. Thefts, a new officer…and her? And he wanted to confirm dinner plans _before_ talking to her about what was on his mind? Always a good sign. It would seem that she was not going to like this.

"First off, the thefts. There was the one at my home but, as of now, I have noticed nothing missing. All the others occurred at military records repositories. The interesting thing is, only one facility reported any files missing. More interesting than that, however, is that the record stolen was from the vault housing their 'top secret' files. Want to hear the real juicy part?" Grumman paused for dramatic effect. "It contained all the information the military had ever discovered about your father."

Elizabeth felt the blood drain from her face. If someone was looking into her father, that was _bad_ news. For one thing, they knew that the military had a file on him. For another, they apparently were aware that he was even worth looking into in the first place.

"Grandfather…it would seem that the break-in at your home may be related then. If they know about your connection to him, such as it was, that's _really_ not good."

At this remark, Grumman quickly added, "And that brings me to what may be considered the 'good' news. I know for a fact that I do not appear in that file, and that your death does. The military could only have so much information on your father seeing as he wasn't ever a state alchemist. What they did have was mostly a form of keeping tabs on an individual that was a potential danger. They didn't really know any of what he discovered, just the topic he was researching."

"So, they, whoever _they_ are, should have no reason to go searching for any next-of-kin. That's a relief." Elizabeth felt her worry subside. Unfortunately that reprieve lasted mere moments because then she remembered the only other living person that had anything to do with her father. "But…" Elizabeth began.

"But Mustang," Grumman interrupted, finishing her thought. "And, well, that brings me to the next topic."

Oh no, Elizabeth thought, oh no. Please don't tell me that…

"He's coming here," Grumman said, breaking her train of thought. "Mustang is the young Colonel being transferred to Eastern Command.

"Oh…shit." Elizabeth once more felt her face pale and her eyes grow wide. This was going to be interesting.


	3. Undercover

**Disclaimer** : I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **Undercover**

After work and prior to dinner, Elizabeth experienced a hailstorm of thoughts. _Shit. Fuck. Damn._ She paced her apartment, scrutinizing every little habit she had in her youth that Mustang may recognize. _What if he notices something? That's absurd. Why would he? He didn't care, remember?_

Her mind raced, and her heart sped up to match its pace. She kept seeing flashes of black hair, dark eyes, and chiseled features. _Why here? For that matter, why_ _him_ _? Why now?_ _No: the whys don't matter._ Her thoughts continued to flow frantically; memories and flashes interspersed with panicked doubts.

When Elizabeth's eyes focused, she saw the various parts of her pistol distributed in her usual organized manner across the surface of her kitchen table. A moment later she looked down at her hands and discovered she was cleaning the barrel. She set the barrel down on the table, pushed her chair back, and stood up.

She'd stopped her pacing and entirely dismantled her pistol absentmindedly. Elizabeth took a couple deep breaths to calm her nerves: "I am Elizabeth," she affirmed aloud. _My cover is solid; Riza is dead. Mustang has no reason to think I'm me._

 _Ok. What is this really about?_ After a moment, she sat back down to finish cleaning and then reassemble the pistol. She could not decide if she was more worried about him recognizing her or how she would react upon seeing him again. Despite everything, when she meets his gaze, she could get a rush of emotion, with a knotted stomach, and a head full of dirty thoughts. _Well, it would be nice to have sex with my shirt off for a change._

No! No! No! No! Elizabeth needed to get those thoughts on lock-down immediately. She should not feel anything anymore; he certainly would not reciprocate. She found herself half-wishing she would just spontaneously combust. It would be fitting, and it would get rid of the damn tattoo. Too bad that option is unreliable. Stupid Flame Alchemists.

Elizabeth tried to reassure herself that everything would be fine. After finding out about the transfer, she had pulled the files for Mustang and his team. She'd done her research; she was prepared. All she needed was to be observant, and not think about Roy Mustang, or dark eyes, or toned abs or…shit. _Remember the anger. He has no power over me._

Elizabeth happened to look at the clock and went to get ready for dinner. As much as she and Rebecca joked about her bailing, she was actually looking forward to going dancing. She could definitely use a night out.

* * *

Elizabeth arrived at her grandfather's house a little early. She wanted to see everything there that had anything to do with the break-in. It's not that she expected to find several pieces of evidence missed by the police. It was simply that, in her experience, you could never be too careful.

She thoroughly searched his study: everything from his great mahogany desk to the bookshelves, chairs, and safe. Pulling out drawers, glancing over papers, and perusing familiar marks on the furniture, she looked for anything out of place. Then, examining the window used as an entry point into that room, she concluded that nothing was amiss.

Neither she nor Grumman could find any evidence that the safe, or anything else, had been tampered with. Still unsettled, she implored that he consent to having guards stationed around the property. It was just too coincidental that the break-in occurred at the same time as the other burglaries and the ultimate theft of the Hawkeye file. Her grandfather, of course, refused what he considered an unnecessary precaution. Their discussion was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell: Rebecca had arrived for dinner.

As they made their way down hallways and stairs to the front door, Grumman's concern for his granddaughter grew. He knew that before her "death" someone had been following her, watching her. They had chosen to fake her death to protect her and have a better chance of investigating this organization; and they have made progress. It would seem, however, that this group decided to make a few plays after having been inactive for some time, at least regarding the Hawkeyes. If they found out about her, she would be in too much danger. He would make sure to communicate with his and Elizabeth's contact tasked with keeping tabs on The Group.

* * *

The club was utterly packed when Roy Mustang arrived. The bass was so heavy it could be heard 4 blocks away and it took him 10 minutes just to edge through all the people and tables between him and the bar ahead of him on the right. When he reached it, he took advantage of the few minutes waiting for the bartender in order to acclimate himself to the environment. He casually surveyed the room: Havoc was at the other end of the bar near the dance floor chatting up a cute blond, Breda and Fuery occupied a table on the second level near the railing, and Falman had taken up his place on the far edge of the dance floor, with a rather tall brunette, near the exit.

Mustang knew his team was aware that he'd arrived: they were old hat at this 'undercover' thing. While the opportunity to familiarize themselves with their new base of operations was useful, their main purpose in going to this particular club was to check-out, or rather investigate, the two women that currently worked in the General's office. General Grumman he knew, but not the Lieutenants that worked for him and Mustang had too much at stake to not be thorough. He wanted to know everything about everyone he would be working with in East City, starting with Lieutenants Jackson and Catalina. Colonel Roy Mustang and his team were headed to the top: this transfer to Eastern Command was only a minor setback.

Mustang had requisitioned the Lieutenants' files and, while all that information was useful, he liked to talk to people face to face. It was easier to tell if they were lying, and what about, that way. Havoc had convinced him that it would be a good idea to tail the ladies to this club and get to know them a little. _Of course this was Havoc's idea._ And wouldn't it just be such a nice surprise when they all saw each other at work on Monday? Though this was not Mustang's ideal, Monday was tomorrow and he wanted a better idea of what he was walking into.

Havoc and Mustang, egotistically and correctly identifying themselves as the ladies' men of the group, each took one woman's file and studied. Looking across the club, in the direction pointed out to him by Breda, he spotted Lieutenant Catalina (his target) with another woman at the edge of the dance floor. As luck would have it, their drinks were looking a touch low.

Tucking the number he'd just acquired into his pocket, Havoc made his way over to where Mustang stood at the bar to get himself another drink and update the boss on everything Jackson- and Catalina-related. He was just filling him in on what the Lieutenants had done so far, as well as what they were drinking so he could use it as an opener, when none other than Rebecca Catalina sauntered over to them. Havoc and Mustang looked at each other for a moment, wondering if they were not the only ones that had done a little research. Their fears were quickly allayed, however, when she addressed Havoc:

"Hey there, handsome," she began with a coy smile. "Are you gonna buy me a drink, or what?"

"How can I say no to that?" he smirked. _Damn_ , he thought, _looks like we have to wing it._ "Dirty martini, right?" She nodded in response, then said:

"My friend and I have noticed you checkin' us out all night so far. Instead of us, you come talk to this guy," she jerked a thumb in Mustang's direction then put her hand on her hip. "So, you're either a creep or just biding your time. I came to find out which." Then she added, "And to have you all to myself if you're normal." She took the dirty martini handed to her.

"While I am normal, I don't mind being shared."

"Hmm…well I don't share…Dance?" she asked, while tilting her head slightly towards the dance floor.

"Oh, definitely. Just give me one sec."

"Sure thing. Meet you on the floor." Catalina walked back to her friend where some serious detail sharing ensued. While he watched her, Havoc spoke to Mustang.

"Ok boss. Sorry, but I think we should go with it." He shrugged, and then added, "She's feisty. I kinda like her."

"Dammit Havoc, this is why I wanted to read both files," Mustang replied; the frustration ringing clearly in his voice. "Fine. Which one is Jackson?"

"Don't worry, boss, she's cute. You'll like her. She's the brunette Rebecca's talking to; drinking a gin-and-tonic." Havoc started to walk toward Rebecca but turned back to face Mustang after only a couple steps. "Just keep in mind, boss, she's the Hawk's eye. So, don't piss her off."

"Wait, who?" Mustang asked too late. Havoc was already leading Rebecca to the dance floor with a stupid grin on his face. He ordered a gin-and-tonic to take to Jackson. Then, he remembered why that sounded so familiar. Of course, he thought of Riza Hawkeye, but that was not it. If he recalled correctly, the Hawk's eye was the nickname of the most skilled sniper in Amestris. He had not realized before that the title belonged to a woman, but _she_ had been recognized for her valor in Ishval. She had saved many soldiers' lives; even his own on at least one occasion. The most deadly alchemist and sniper of the Ishval war? At least they were on an even footing.

Mustang took the gin-and-tonic handed to him by the bartender, paid his tab, left a tip, and then turned to navigate the crush of dancers and drinkers. He kept his eye on his target while he walked, in case she moved. Some guy was trying to hit on her and was biting it, hard. Her body language said, 'You can go now,' but he apparently was not getting the message.

Then, he saw Jackson push the guy away as her head whipped around toward the dance floor, so Mustang's gaze followed suit. Catalina was in the middle of some chaos. It looked like another dancer had been getting a little too fresh with her. He was about to make his way over there but then Havoc took control of the situation; he was intimidating enough to make the handsy guy back down. Mustang looked back at Jackson just in time to see her remove her hand from the pistol at her back and move her top into place to cover it. Nice legs _and_ carrying at a club? He liked her already.

Mustang saw Lt. Jackson down the rest of her drink and thought _Perfect timing, Roy-boy_. She was still facing away from him so he set her new drink down on the small counter on her left. Jackson was already turning around, those sniper senses having already alerted her to his presence, so he started to say something witty and charming. What that was, he could never remember because when she finally faced him, what he saw made him feel like his lungs had just burst and his heart dropped straight to the floor. He could hardly stand and the usually suave Roy Mustang knew that in that moment he'd lost control of all his faculties.

His eyes were wider than he thought possible, his jaw hung slack, and he was fairly certain he'd dropped his glass of whiskey. If there was a crash of breaking glass, he was incapable of hearing it. In fact he was unable to hear or see anything else. He was entirely too lost to notice the expression of shock and surprise on her face; how she'd stiffened ever so slightly on seeing him; how she was looking at him too.

He finally exhaled and out with that breath came, involuntarily, one word: "Riza?"

Elizabeth recovered first, though it took a moment or two longer than it should have, especially after, "Riza." Shit, she had missed hearing him say that.

The only thing she could cobble together as a response amongst her still somewhat jumbled thoughts was, "Did you want something?"

All the usually suave, ever charming Colonel Roy Mustang could do was walk away. Because, people do _not_ come back to life, and at that moment, he could not handle that.


	4. Temporary Insanity

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **Temporary Insanity**

After he walked away from Lt. Jackson, Roy Mustang immediately left the club. Havoc, who had caught a glimpse of his boss' surprising lack of tact, motioned for Breda to follow him then returned his full attention to Lt. Catalina. Breda hastily followed Mustang out the front door of the club, asking:

"Boss?" Not receiving a response, he quickened his pace and repeated the question. "Hey…Boss? You OK?" Breda was rather stunned. He had never seen the Colonel lose his cool like that.

Mustang finally slowed and then stopped walking. When Breda caught up with him, he saw him standing with one hand on his hip and the other covering his mouth; his eyes were still uncommonly wide. The Colonel ran a hand through his hair and Breda heard him say, "It _can't_ be her."

Mustang spared barely a glance for Breda and then continued walking away. Thinking it was better not to follow him, he returned to his table at the club.

"What happened?" Fuery asked, still looking as surprised as Breda felt.

Breda opened his mouth, and at first nothing came out. He shook his head, shrugged, and said, "I have no idea. I followed him, and when I finally caught up to him, he was just standing there. I asked what was up, but he never answered. All he said was, 'It _can't_ be her,' and then walked away."

"Lt. Jackson you mean? Can't be who?"

"No clue. Oh…is she still out by the dance floor? I don't see her, and we should still keep tabs on her."

"She left the dance floor heading towards the restrooms. She hasn't come back…Wait, Wait, there she is," Fuery responded. They watched as Lt. Jackson walked over to Havoc and Catalina, pulled her friend aside, spoke to her a moment, and then left. "This is weird. I've _never_ seen the Colonel act like that."

"Yeah, I know," replied Breda. "It's more like Havoc than the Colonel to be all spastic around a woman."

Fuery laughed a little nervously and said, "Good thing Havoc can't hear you."

"Eh…what can he do besides smoke _himself_ to death?"

Fuery added, "I hope the Colonel's ok."

"Me too. But I guess we'll find out tomorrow. His ass better be at work."

* * *

Roy was unsure of how long he walked around East City after the whole club debacle. Somehow, he managed to reach his recently acquired apartment, and he was mostly sure he did not call a cab. Since he lived nowhere near that club, that meant he'd walked distractedly for a couple hours. When he did arrive home, he unceremoniously threw his coat on the kitchen table, and proceeded to drink a more than respectable amount of whiskey. _Holy. Shit._

What was wrong with him? He had never so monumentally failed to charm a woman. He supposed "charm" in this instance was being used loosely since his performance consisted of standing stiff as a board, eyes and mouth open wide, staring at the poor woman. And she _was_ Riza; until he regained his senses, and his memory of her funeral. After that, there were just too many memories and emotions attacking him that all he could do was leave. Hell, he would _never_ hear the end of this.

Now sufficiently tipsy, his mind scrambled to explain how Hawkeye could still be alive. Maybe there was a chance? _No, it_ _can't_ _be her._ That was all so long ago, and he thought that by now he'd worked past it. She was dead, after all, so how did she still have this effect on him? But then he remembered that face that was uncannily similar to hers; and those shimmering eyes that seemed almost fluid. If that woman had been blonde, he would have sworn up and down that Hawkeye must have had a twin he never knew about.

Roy naturally preferred to be in control of his emotions and completely put-together. He was Colonel Mustang: always aware of the enemy and thinking several plays ahead. However, his habitually clear, logical mind could only think about _her_. What normally came to him in occasional dreams he could now experience fully conscious: sun-drenched blonde hair, the way her body felt pressed against his, her warmly lilting laugh, and the alchemical tattoo. He'd always known he did not deserve her, but he could not help himself. Riza Hawkeye was incredible, and breathtaking.

He thought about the last night they'd spent together: the night he thought about throughout Ishval. Then, as always, he would see her in pain: her probable disappointment in his use of flame alchemy, her tears and confusion at his lack of communication, and the despair she must have felt dying slowly. And he, the coward he was, never went to see her, nor did he discover her illness until it was too late. He had been _such_ an asshole.

What she must have thought of him he could only imagine. Roy assumed that she used terms like scumbag, piece of shit, son of a bitch, and bastard to refer to him. Well, he probably…no, definitely, deserved it. He just always thought that he would be able to return to her and attempt an explanation. He never imagined she would _die_. And if he reacts like this to just seeing someone that looks like her? _Well, shit._

* * *

The next morning, as Roy was getting ready for his first official day at Eastern Command, he started to feel a bit better about the situation. Now, in the bright light of a (slightly) hungover day, he felt he'd fully recovered from that shock to his system. The rest of the previous night he spent drinking a bit more whiskey, sleeping a mere two hours, and racking his brain for _who_ that woman might be. Lt. Jackson truly had to be a relation of Riza's, there was no other possibility, and it took waking up with a healthy dose of black coffee to jog his memory.

His mind went back to Hawkeye's funeral, as it has so often done over the years, and he could vaguely recall the mention of a cousin. Roy had to admit, he had been a little distracted that day. It was even one of those rare occasions on which he's cried. Still, he thought he remembered a young brunette woman standing with General Grumman, and something about her taking care of Riza in the time leading up to her demise. _It must be her_.

With that idea in his head, he left for the office, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead. Last night's temporary insanity could _not_ happen again so he would have to accustom himself to the idea of seeing, and working with, Lt. Jackson on a regular basis. He could certainly do this: he was Colonel Roy Mustang, and one of the youngest Colonels ever at that. _Just put Riza Hawkeye in the back of your mind._

For the remainder of his commute to work, his thoughts were all business: he was to meet his team out front, then go to the General's office where he would be greeted and shown to their offices, and then the work would begin. As he walked up to the Eastern Command building, he saw his team waiting for him. A better team he could not have hoped for: they were all skilled, capable of working together seamlessly, and completely trustworthy. So long as they do not ask him about last night. But, of course, along came Havoc to meet him.

"Morning, boss," Lt. Havoc greeted him with a mocking grin boasting an unlit cigarette. "Doing ok this morning? Seems you had a bit of a rough night last night. Good thing I was able to keep it together."

"Morning, Havoc," Mustang replied through gritted teeth. "Everything's just fine. Don't worry we'll have ample opportunity for you to hit on Lt. Catalina some more."

"Oh, sir? I don't suppose you _got_ anything on Lt. Jackson before you…you know…forgot how to speak?"

"Havoc…" Mustang said, with a distinct hint of warning in his voice.

"Seriously though, boss," Havoc's voice slightly lower, "you ok?"

"Yes. Fine," he responded. _I think_. "Don't worry about it." Then, addressing the rest of his men, whom they had by then reached, he added, "Guys, let's head in. I wouldn't want to arrive late on my first day."

After strolling through the halls, idly chatting, and searching for the General's offices, Mustang and his teamed had finally arrived in front of the impressive oak doors. They had only been there a moment when voices were heard approaching from their right and, after an additional few seconds, Lts. Jackson and Catalina could be seen turning towards them from another hallway. Salutes were exchanged and, for whatever reason, Mustang found himself immediately making eye contact with Lt. Jackson. She quickly pulled her eyes away from his; of course, she recognized him from last night. _Way to start off on the right foot, Roy._ When Lt. Catalina finally saw Havoc, she emitted a small exclamation of surprise and smiled at him.

Walking up to him and lightly slapping his arm, Catalina said, "Hey! What a coincidence! You could have told me you're with the military." While Lt. Catalina fell into conversation with Lt. Havoc, Jackson walked right by all of them. As she walked in front of him to unlock the office doors, Mustang heard her mutter, "Oh, yes, _what_ a coincidence." How would she have known who they were?

They all filed into the office after Lt. Jackson who said, "Gentlemen, General Grumman will likely arrive fashionably tardy, as usual. Please feel free to have a seat." With this last part, she gestured toward the chairs available along the wall on either side of the small room near the door. At the other end of the room was the door to the inner office, on either side of which stood Jackson's and Catalina's desks. Shortly after their entrance, Lt. Jackson walked out of the office.

* * *

Elizabeth's departure from the office was not so much an escape as her simply following her morning routine. The fact that it got her away from the Colonel was just an added bonus. She made her stops at various departments, picking up all the paperwork pertaining to the General, checking on anything that may need his attention, and hoping that he would be there by the time she returned. She passed, saluted, and greeted various individuals on her route, but her trip was otherwise uneventful.

When Elizabeth entered the office once more, Rebecca was still chatting with Mustang's team and the phone on her desk was ringing.

"Jackson," she said, after placing the receiver to her ear.

"Good morning, Liz," the caller asked. She recognized her grandfather's voice on the other end of the call.

"Good morning, sir."

"So the Colonel's there already, is he?"

"Yes, sir. We await your arrival," she replied.

"Great. I'll only be a minute longer…Have you started my coffee yet?"

"No, sir. I was just about to. It slipped my mind when I first walked in."

"Hmm," said Grumman, sounding slightly curious. "Distracted, my dear?"

"Not at all. The coffee, sir?"

"Oh, yes. Could you go ahead and start that Aerugonian blend? I think Mustang will like that one."

"Certainly, sir." _Interesting, so he communicated with our contact in Aerugo._ "Is there anything else?"

"Nah, we'll talk later. See you shortly."

"Yes, sir." Elizabeth heard the click of the call ending. When she looked up, she found everyone else in the room looking at her. Directing her next words to Mustang and his team, she told them, "He'll be here in just a few minutes. I apologize for the wait, sir."

"No problem at all, Lieutenant," Mustang responded. "We don't mind putting off a little work. It will be good to see the General."

"Yes, sir." After a moment, she added to Rebecca, "Lt. Catalina?"

"Yes?"

"Could you please sort through some of these? I'm not sure they're all for the General."

Rebecca nodded her consent so Elizabeth handed her a stack of papers and then entered the inner office. She took a moment to just enjoy the solitude of her grandfather's office. She had always thought of it as a sanctuary and at that moment she took a breath to prepare herself for the coming official introductions. Elizabeth then approached the small coffee station they had placed there and while she prepared the coffee she wondered what their contact had told her grandfather.

She did not have much time to ponder as an instant later she heard the General's steps approaching the office door. She turned around, the door opened, and he said, "Good morning everyone. Just give me a moment to get situated and we'll get started."

After he'd closed the door, her grandfather came up to her and gave her a hug. Holding her by the shoulders, he looked at her and asked, "Are you ready?" Elizabeth nodded and smiled to show her appreciation for the gesture.

"The coffee is almost ready, sir." She again went to the coffee station to prepare a small tray with some coffee cups. She heard her grandfather open the door and say, "Lt. Catalina, please send in Colonel Mustang."

The Colonel entered through the door her grandfather still held open. The two men greeted each other as they made their way to the General's desk situated in front of an expansive window.

"Good morning, General," Mustang began as the two shook hands. "It's good to see you. It's been a while."

"Good morning, Colonel. Indeed it has been. I officially welcome you to Eastern Command. Please, be seated." As he spoke these last few words, the General gestured with his hand toward the chairs facing his desk. The Colonel took a seat in one as the General sat down at his desk. It was at this time that Elizabeth set the small tray with the coffee and cups on her grandfather's desk. She was just about to walk toward the door when she heard:

"Colonel," Grumman began. "Please allow me to introduce my granddaughter, Lt. Elizabeth Jackson. I don't believe you two have met."

The Colonel stood to face her and she saluted crisply then offered her hand to shake.

As he took her hand he said, "Actually, we met last night. And, Lieutenant, I must apologize for my behavior. I thought you were someone else. I hope I didn't disturb you."

"Good morning, Colonel," she greeted him. "Welcome to Eastern Command. And no, not at all." She gave him a cursory, polite smile, and then added, "What a small world it is that we all happened to be at the same club." She saw his eyebrows rise just a little at that comment. "If you would excuse me, I need to get back to work."

Catching her grandfather's questioning glance, she gave him a look that said, "I'll tell you later."

Smiling to herself, Elizabeth made to leave but stopped when Grumman addressed her and, turning around, she took the small piece of paper he handed her. "Lt. Jackson? Please take this. It's regarding my meeting later."

"Thank you, sir. On that note, please remember you do have a meeting in a half hour."

"Very well, Lieutenant. Thank you."

Elizabeth left Grumman's office and then the outer office as well. She turned left into the hallway and, two hallways down, took another left to reach an area that had very little traffic. Taking her grandfather's note out of her pocket, she read:

 _Contacted Renata. No info on stolen file._ _Group_ _expecting 'important package' within next 2 weeks. No idea what it is. Contact Bennie?_

Oh yes. She and Bennie would have a nice little heart to heart.


	5. Trouble in East City

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **Trouble in East City**

It was not until Wednesday afternoon, two days after Colonel Mustang's first day, that Elizabeth and Grumman found an opportunity to catch-up in private. Elizabeth recounted the events of the night that she and Rebecca went to the club. She spoke of how Mustang and his team just happened to go to the same bar, which suggested that they were attempting to research the officers working for the General. She also told him about her…curious…interaction with Mustang that same night.

"Grandfather, he completely lost it. At first he just stared at me, and then he said my name."

"Wait. He knew your name is Elizabeth? I don't think he should have access to yours and Catalina's files. He must…"

"No, grandfather. _My name_."

There was a short pause, then, "Oooh."

"Yeah. It was unnerving. And then he just walked away. So I took refuge in the bathroom and then left, telling Rebecca I didn't feel well."

"I wondered what he was apologizing for, but it seems like you handled that first meeting as well as can be expected, my dear. Don't worry. It will be fine."

"I know. I know. I've been trying to monitor myself so carefully," she replied, gesturing with her hands as if waving that issue aside. After a brief pause, she added, "Also, I've tried to communicate with Bennie, but have been unsuccessful."

"Well, it's only been a couple days. I'm sure he'll get back to us."

"How are you so optimistic about this? He generally responds pretty quickly. I tried one method of initiating contact Monday, and another yesterday. Grandfather, something feels…off. Break-ins, Hawkeye-related theft, Mustang's transfer, the 'important package' Renata mentioned, no response from Bennie."

"Yes," he nodded. "It's too much to be coincidental. Since Mustang is a prime target for them, I'll have a few MPs tail him for a little while as extra protection, and extra eyes."

"We're going to have to tell him about the Group at some point. He won't take kindly to an MP escort. And it is _probably_ unethical to keep him in the dark when he's a likely target."

"For now, I'll just tell him we've had threats against alchemists recently, and that the MPs are non-negotiable. Next week I'll fill him in on the ARF."

"Ok. I'll keep trying to reach Bennie to see what I can find out."

* * *

Near the end of the day on Wednesday, Mustang was headed back to his office after a meeting. It felt nice to stretch his legs after sitting all afternoon. When he reached his hallway, he saw Lt. Jackson ahead of him, stopped in front of a large picture window, enjoying the view. He had been trying to avoid her as much as possible; though he knew he would need to interact with her at times since they work in the same building. Every time he saw her, he was reminded of Hawkeye, and no one could know that _anything_ was capable of throwing him off his game. With any luck, this would get easier over time. For now, he resolved to do his best to not call her Riza.

As he was walking past her, he said, "Hello, Lt. Jackson." When she turned and started to approach him, he stopped.

Lt. Jackson saluted and greeted him with, "Good afternoon, Colonel. I have a message from the General." She handed him a piece of paper she was carrying and, with a nod, walked past him to leave.

"Lieutenant?"

"Sir?" she responded as she turned around to face him.

"I see there's some annual festival, as well as a welcome dinner for me, on Friday."

"Correct, sir."

He waited a second, as if he expected her to elaborate on those events. When she did not, he said, "What's this about MPs?"

"It's all there in the message, sir." Lt. Jackson again attempted to leave but he stopped her before she could, saying:

"The MPs are not necessary. I am completely capable of protecting myself."

"The General asked me to tell you that they are non-negotiable, sir." With that, she abruptly turned and left. Mustang wondered to himself if their interactions were always going to be that tense and business-like.

* * *

Friday, the morning of the Eastern Command festival dawned somewhat overcast, but hot as ever. Elizabeth started running through in her mind all the things that needed accomplished. Make sure everything is prepared for the festival, remind the General he has to kick things off, there's the dinner in the evening to officially welcome the Colonel, etc. She'd still had no response from Bennie: a fact about which she was becoming increasingly concerned.

Still in the midst of her morning routine, she caught her own gaze in the mirror. Of course, over the years, she had alternately regretted and rejoiced in her decision to start a new life. She had craved the chance to do what _she_ wanted to do precisely when _she_ wanted to do it. And there was the, at that time mysterious, threat. Apparently, too many people had known about her father's alchemy and, like an idiot, he put the key on her back. Right there for anyone intelligent enough to figure out what it meant.

Oh, she was going to need a good work-out to get through the day. She decided to go for a nice, long run to relieve some of the stress that had been building up since she first heard the news of Mustang's arrival. When she finally walked into the office, she still managed to arrive an hour early. _Perfect_ , she thought. _I can still have just a little time to myself_.

She started coffee, and then made her morning rounds to pick up the required paperwork. Outside, the workers could be heard setting up tents and other festival necessities. There was to be a stage, some vendors' booths, a variety of food trucks, games, and even a couple carnival rides. Though she hated having to help plan it, the festival was not entirely horrendous, and the area citizens seemed to enjoy the distractions. It also had the effect of making the military seem more human, which it desperately needed.

Elizabeth pushed those thoughts from her mind in order to get to work. She, Grumman, and Catalina all worked diligently throughout the morning, with Elizabeth occasionally checking on the festival's progress. After what felt like a mere hour, but turned out to be several, she heard the General walk out of his office.

"Ok then ladies," the General interjected into the silence that had reigned most of the morning. "It's about time for my lunch meeting. And which lucky lieutenant will be accompanying me?"

The two women shared a questioning glance, after which Lt. Catalina stood up and volunteered, "I'll go with you, sir. Lt. Jackson has a few things left on her plate before the festival begins."

"Oh yes," the Grumman replied, "the ridiculous 'see how nice the military is' festival."

"Oh and General?" Elizabeth finally spoke, looking up from the work on her desk and catching her grandfather's eye. "Please remember, sir, you need to be back no later than 2:30 P.M. to kick off the festivities. And then we have the dinner officially welcoming the Colonel at 7 P.M."

"Yes, of course," he assured her. "Just to show how well I'll behave today, I'll be back by _2_."

"Oh wow, so early. Is everything alright?"

Grumman chuckled and said, "Indeed. Perfectly fine. Don't work too hard lieutenant. We'll be back."

"Looking forward to it, sir."

* * *

By 2 P.M. Elizabeth had finished all the necessary preparations and made her way out onto the grounds where everything was set up for the festival. She had not seen her grandfather yet, but that was no surprise, really. He always had a problem with frequent tardiness.

Finding a warrant officer with time apparently on his hands, she ordered him to find the Colonel and ask him to make his way to the festival grounds. He was the newest officer at Eastern after all, and he should be there.

A half hour later, Elizabeth was still waiting for her grandfather, and by that time so was everyone else. He was supposed to be on-stage by 3 P.M., and there was a reason she gave him that half-hour; he was a bit of a drama queen. Grumman always loved an entrance.

By 3 P.M. Elizabeth was seriously concerned, and sent some soldiers to look for the General. Perhaps he'd arrived but had not found her yet? The pessimist in her had little hope for that outcome but it was worth having the compound searched. Yes, he had his lateness issues but he usually at least called to say he'd be late, and good-naturedly joke that the party really would not start until he arrived anyway. Elizabeth just could not shake the feeling that something was off.

Suddenly, she heard a noise coming from near the grounds. Straining her ears, she started walking toward the street in front of the military complex. It had been blocked off for the festival but what she heard sounded oddly like squealing tires. Someone took a turn way too quickly, and it sounded like they were headed her way. At the edge of the street, she looked to her right: nothing. Then, on her left, she saw a van barreling down the roadway, already in the cordoned off zone. She drew the pistol she had tucked in the holster at her back. By that time, she was no longer the only one watching.

Then, everything happened so quickly. The van screeched to a halt, a warning shot was fired, and all the bystanders ducked. Something was thrown out onto the side walk on the other side of the road, and the van started to pick up speed again. It was a body. Elizabeth sprinted out into the road, gun still drawn, aiming at the back of the van. One group of soldiers was already running toward whoever was thrown out of the van to see if they were alive. She shouted orders at another group. "You, find the Colonel!" "Shoot the tires!"

 _It's getting away_ , she thought, as she saw bullets puncture the van's rear doors instead of the tires. Returning her pistol to its holster, she directed her next order to a guard standing nearby. "Rifle!"

He handed her his rifle without a second thought: she was the Hawk's eye after all. She made sure it was loaded and ready to go, one in the chamber. She dropped to one knee, took aim, drew in a deep breath, exhaled, and fired two rounds in quick succession. The van skidded to a halt, now perpendicular to the sidewalk, two tires blown. The passenger side door opened and a man bolted out, gun waving, trying to escape. He was firing erratically, and there were many civilians in his path. Elizabeth took one more breath, exhaled, and put a bullet in his leg: better to bring him down now than collect civilian bodies later.

"We're gonna need to talk to him," she told the soldier next to her, pointing toward the gunman. "And go surround that van." She tossed the rifle back to the guard and ran over to the body on the sidewalk. With long, wavy brown hair, she had a sneaking suspicion it was Rebecca.

* * *

Colonel Roy Mustang was still in his office ignoring paperwork when Lt. Jackson's messenger found him to ask him to join the festivities. Honestly, he had been trying to avoid that asinine festival as well. Nevertheless, after the messenger left, he and Havoc leisurely walked in the direction of the grounds in front of Eastern Command. The rest of his team would also be there, and in fact likely already were, but he would take his time.

They walked out of the building, and made their way toward the stage where the General was expected to appear. Mustang thought it odd that people were mostly clustered up along the street; he did not remember hearing about a parade or anything. Then, he heard a gunshot ring out and the squeal of tires. Exchanging a brief look with Lt. Havoc, they broke into a sprint to close the distance between themselves and the road. He could hear orders being shouted, a group of men were running across the street, and other gunshots could be heard, likely aimed at the fleeing van. _Someone_ had apparently taken charge of the situation.

When Mustang and Havoc reached the edge of the road, they pushed through the small crowd that had formed. The Colonel started to make his presence known, attempting to find out what the hell was going on, when he saw Lt. Jackson standing in the middle of the street. _What is she doing?_ She barked an order to an MP standing near her who handed her his rifle. He watched as she checked the weapon to ensure it was loaded, took a knee, and prepared to fire. After she did, he looked down the street to the van, which she had stopped, and saw a man jump out.

Looking back at her, as she readied herself to fire once more, he noticed her composure: focused and calm, she was in her element. After she brought down the armed passenger, she ran over to the body on the side of the street, and he found himself thinking that Riza must have taught her to shoot. Jackson's "process" was quite similar to what he remembered as Hawkeye's: the timing, the breath, everything. Mustang shoved those thoughts from his mind, however, to begin doling out orders for soldiers to surround the van, apprehend the gunman, etc. He then walked directly toward Lt. Jackson so she could fill him in on what the fuck just happened.


	6. Bullet Holes and Revelations

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **Bullet Holes and Revelations**

As Elizabeth ran over to Rebecca, she could hear the Colonel shouting orders behind her: _About time he got here._ When she reached her friend, she dropped to the ground next to her shouting, "Is she alive?!"

"Yes, ma'am. We're waiting for the EMTs to arrive. She has a pulse, but it's weak."

Elizabeth exhaled in relief and grabbed her friend's hand, giving it a quick squeeze. She noticed only a slight response and then realized that Rebecca was shaking uncontrollably, possibly from shock. Her uniform coat had been stripped from her along with the two firearms she carried. A thin trickle of blood leaked from somewhere beyond her hairline and Elizabeth could discern a bruise blossoming in the upper right portion of her forehead. Damn, she wished she could do something, anything.

After a couple minutes, the ambulance arrived and two EMTs ran up to them. They looked her over to ensure she was stable, placed her on a gurney, and were wheeling her to the rear of the vehicle. Taking off her own uniform jacket, Elizabeth draped it over her friend; it was all she was capable of doing. Then, the EMTs started asking her questions.

"Do you know this woman?"

"Yes. Her name is Rebecca Catalina. She has no allergies, nor any pre-existing conditions. She was thrown from the side door of a mostly stopped van. Precisely what happened to her before that, I don't know. My name is Elizabeth Jackson and I am her emergency contact." Elizabeth then addressed two of the soldiers who had run to Rebecca's aid after the van drove off. "You two, stand guard outside her room. No one is to enter save myself and medical personnel. Understood?"

The two soldiers saluted, confirmed their orders with a "Yes, ma'am," and stepped up into the ambulance with Rebecca. When the ambulance left, Elizabeth turned around and came face to face with Colonel Mustang. She saluted, and suddenly felt very aware of the black, form-fitting shirt she was now left with after sacrificing her coat.

"Well, Lieutenant? Fill me in; since you're the only one here who seems to have any idea what's happened."

She told him everything that had occurred as they walked toward the van still surrounded by soldiers: the General's lack of arrival, that she sent soldiers searching for him, the appearance of the van, how she stopped it, etc. Before they reached the van the Colonel stopped her, saying:

"Go to the hospital if you need to, Lieutenant."

 _Well, that was nice of him_. "No, thank you, sir. I'd like to see this through. She would understand. Especially since the General is still missing." As if to reaffirm her resolve, she drew the two firearms in her shoulder holsters.

"Very well, Lieutenant." With that, they walked the remaining distance to the van. "Jackson, Havoc, I want you at the side door when we open it. Dieter, cover the driver. Everyone else, keep it surrounded until we find out what's in there." After soldiers took their positions, Mustang placed himself between Havoc and Jackson, gloves on and ready to strike.

Elizabeth heard Havoc whisper to him, "Sir, perhaps you should move out of the line of fire."

"Not a chance, Havoc."

"Eh…it was worth a shot boss," Havoc smirked.

"Ok, Carranza, on my count, open the side door. One, two, three!"

The door whipped open and, pistols at the ready, Jackson and Havoc moved closer, peering into the back of the van. Nothing was there save the remnants you might expect from taking two people captive: rope, and duct tape, amongst other odds and ends.

Dieter opened the driver-side door and removed the still unconscious driver from his seat and began to cuff him. Some solders were more thoroughly checking the inside of the van and Mustang had stepped a short distance away to confer on where to take the prisoners. Holstering her weapons, Elizabeth took this opportunity to check the driver for the marking of members of the Group: a small tattooed symbol on the inner portion of the upper arm which, in old Aerugonian, meant 'to cleanse.' Fortunately, he was wearing a short sleeve shirt, so it was not difficult to find it and confirm her fears.

The hairs on the back of her neck pricked up: these assholes had her grandfather. That, and she felt someone looking at her. When she turned around, Mustang was watching her, his expression unreadable. He beckoned her over and told her:

"We're going to question the prisoners, Lieutenant. I'm having them taken to the holding cells within headquarters."

"Before you talk to them, sir, it is imperative that I speak with you." Looking around, she noticed Havoc was listening intently to their conversation, so she added, "In private." He was clearly taken aback by her request, which is no surprise since she'd done her best to say as few words as possible to him thus far. She had been trying to interact with him very little, and keeping her distance had been working. Unfortunately, now that could not be avoided: the time to read-in Mustang had come, albeit a little sooner than expected.

"And it has to be right now?"

"Yes." She looked him in the eye and, trying to emphasize her next words with her expression, she said, "It is extremely important."

Mustang continued to look at her for a moment as though he was trying to judge if he truly needed to drop everything for this meeting. Then he sighed, turned to Lt. Havoc, and told him:

"Havoc, with the rest of the team, take the prisoners to the holding cells we discussed. Wait for me there."

Havoc approached the Colonel and asked him, quietly, "Sir, it may be a good idea for me to come with you."

After glancing at Elizabeth once more, Mustang replied, "No, I think we'll be fine. Wait with the team." Turning to Elizabeth, he added, "How long will this take, Lieutenant?"

"That all depends on you, sir."

"Fine." Mustang's expression was one of mild exasperation. He turned toward the building and declared, "We'll go to my office."

"Actually, sir, we need to go to the General's office."

Elizabeth looked over at him once more as they fell silent. Neither spoke for the remainder of the walk to Grumman's office. Both were attempting to steel themselves for the upcoming conversation: Elizabeth because she would have to reveal so much, and Mustang because he had no clue _what_ she needed to tell him. They finally reached the doors to the outer office and she unlocked them, opening the door for Mustang to pass through, then locked it behind them. Passing her desk completely, she then unlocked the doors to Grumman's office and they entered.

"Please, have a seat, sir," she said, gesturing towards the chairs in front of the desk.

"What is this about, Lieutenant?" Mustang sat down with a frustrated huff.

"You'll want to hear this, sir." Elizabeth felt Mustang watching her as she walked around to the other side of the desk, unlocked the bottom left-hand drawer, and removed two files. She locked the desk once more, walked back around to the front of the desk, and took a seat. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, she met his gaze and held it. His expression, though guarded, bore some evidence of his confusion and uncertainty. Elizabeth tried to remind herself that she could do this; that she had to, for her grandfather. _Ready or not._

"Sir," she began. "I'll try to keep this brief. As you know, Riza Hawkeye was my cousin, and I am the one who took care of her when she fell ill. It should be no surprise, then, that I am somewhat familiar with flame alchemy and the man who invented it, Berthold Hawkeye." She saw Mustang stiffen slightly when she mentioned her own name, and again when she mentioned that of his teacher.

"Before Riza got sick, and after her father's death, she began to notice that various individuals were following her, observing her activities, and watching her home. We discovered that these individuals were members of the Aerugonian Revolutionary Front and the General and I have, in turn, been keeping an eye on this Group. Their goal where flame alchemy is concerned is to obtain and utilize it in order to destroy their current government.

"Until recently, they have remained largely inactive on the subject of the Hawkeyes. However, in the past couple weeks we in East City have experienced a rash of break-ins, one of which occurred at the General's residence, culminating in the theft of the military's file on Berthold Hawkeye." With these words, she handed him one of the files she had removed from her grandfather's desk.

She set the note her grandfather had given her on top of the file. " _This,_ is the intel the General gave me on _your_ first day. It led us to believe the Group might be targeting you in the near future, hence the MP escort. Clearly, we misunderstood who the true target was, though I did ask him to consent to guards as well. As you can likely tell, this is all a bit much to be coincidental; especially considering your recent transfer to Eastern Command."

Elizabeth stopped talking and waited for a response from Mustang. She watched as he quickly skimmed the Hawkeye file and read the note she had given him. He appeared to consider all this information for a moment, and then he looked up at her.

"So, you're thinking this Group took the General. How do you know?"

"The members of the ARF each have a small tattoo located on their inner, upper-arm. The driver of the van is a member; I have not yet checked the passenger." After this, she handed him the other file, which centered on the Group.

"Who is Bennie?

"He is a contact of mine here in East City associated with the ARF who has been sharing information with us for quite some time. However, he has not responded to any of my communiques since Monday."

"When were you planning to tell me all this?" When he asked this, his voice did not sound angry, merely curious.

"The General had decided to tell you next week," she quickly replied.

"What do you know about flame alchemy?" Here, his voice betrayed him with only the slightest note of worry.

"I know enough. More than the military: as you likely saw when you perused the file, they don't know much about his findings. I am also…familiar with what it can do in combat situations, as the ARF would use it." They continued to look at each other for a minute after her last comment.

"Why did you do all this?"

Elizabeth paused for a moment before answering, looking off to the side at nothing in particular. When she decided on a response, she met his eyes once more and answered, "Because I promised Riza that I would do everything in my power to stop the creation of another Flame Alchemist."

Mustang dropped his gaze and started to leaf through the 'Group' file. Elizabeth started speaking once more:

"Sir?"

Mustang looked up in response.

"Secrecy is, clearly, vital: we never even read-in Lt. Catalina." When she received only a nod in reply, she continued. "Also, I know that it is unorthodox to involve family members in the search for a missing individual. All due respect though, sir, you'll need me on this."

"I have to agree with you there, Lieutenant." Mustang went back to reading the file before him.

Suddenly, Elizabeth heard someone banging on the outer office doors. She glanced at Mustang, stood, drew the firearm at her back, and walked through the outer office to the doors. He followed her, donning his gloves: they hadn't told anyone exactly where they were going. As they came closer to the door, shouts started to accompany the knocking, and they recognized the voice:

"Boss?!" Havoc shouted. "Hey! Colonel! You in there?"

Elizabeth replaced her gun in its holster and opened the door to admit Lieutenant Havoc.

"Lt. Havoc," Mustang began. "We're going to hold off on questioning those men until tomorrow. I suddenly have some research to do. Keep them in the holding cells, and have guards on them at all times."

Havoc responded with a, "Yes, sir," and left to see to the Colonel's orders. After he was out of earshot, Mustang turned to Elizabeth and told her, "We'll discuss this again tomorrow, Lieutenant, after I've had time to review all this information. It's about the end of the day anyway, you're dismissed."

"Yes, sir." Mustang walked away and Elizabeth entered the office again, making her way to the sanctuary of Grumman's desk. She sat in her grandfather's chair, elbows on the desk, resting her head in her hands. _There, it's done. I hope I can trust him._ She felt tears welling in her eyes, and one slipped out, beginning to slide down her cheek. Elizabeth suddenly sat straight up, wiped the tear from her face, and blinked away the others. _No, not yet_ , she thought, hands forming fists for emphasis.

Once more, she unlocked and opened one of the drawers in his desk, this time the right middle. Reaching under the drawer rather than into it, she removed the envelope affixed there that her grandfather had told her to take only if something ever happened to him. As she prepared to leave, she grabbed from his desktop the only photo in existence of her and Grumman, a pistol (that may or may not have been registered) hidden in another part of the desk, as well as another file and a key she knew he would not want found if anyone decided to take liberties with his office. Taking one last look around his office, as if she thought that therein hope could be found, she closed and locked the door, and then left the office entirely.

* * *

 **AN:** Just a couple things.

First, I am not especially familiar with the workings of the military, so if anything the characters have done or said seems strange in that respect, that may be why. I'll do my best to make it as accurate and believable as I can, though.

Second, I'm thrilled that so many have taken an interest. Thank you for reading! I am really enjoying writing the story.


	7. Actions and Motives

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **Actions and Motives**

 _When will the damn surprises be over?_ Mustang thought as he walked to his apartment that evening after parting ways with Lt. Jackson. While he had not expected anything specific when she requested to speak with him privately, he certainly did not expect _that_.

He was unable to completely avoid reacting to hearing the Hawkeye's names; he simply had not been prepared. At first, he could not find words, and he was aware he had not said much by way of response throughout the conversation. Not only was he a complete ass where Riza was concerned, but she had also been in danger. He had promised Berthold he would take care of her, and he had promised Riza he would be there for her, always.

 _What if the ARF was behind her death?_ Roy should have protected her: he failed. _So many shoulds_. Just add it to the list of shitty things he'd done. And it was a little painful that Riza had asked Jackson to promise to stop the creation of another Flame Alchemist. During the war, Roy was ashamed of what he'd been ordered to do, and his worst fear was that _she_ would feel the same way after entrusting him with her secrets. That's why he could never bring himself to write to her: he was afraid of her disappointment. _Well, worst fears confirmed, Roy_. He had to agree, though, that flame alchemy should never be widely available. It was too dangerous.

He pushed those thoughts from his mind. Right now, he needed to find Grumman and stop a terrorist organization from using flame alchemy to its utmost destructive capability. Overall, Jackson was correct. He would be hard-pressed to find Grumman without her skills and knowledge. Roy just hoped she could handle it and, after tonight, he figured she could.

Upon reaching his apartment, he let himself in and removed his uniform jacket and boots. Entering the kitchen, he poured himself a drink and stationed himself at the kitchen table to more exhaustively read the files given him by Jackson. He let the alcohol relax him, though he was not really bothered by his status as potential target for this group. Being the Flame Alchemist, he was thus accustomed to that kind of life. No, he was already thinking in terms of actions and motives.

For instance, why bother with Grumman at all? Perhaps they thought Grumman was an easier target whose disappearance might lead them to Mustang. He would contact Central, apprise them of the situation, and volunteer to lead the search and investigation. He liked Grumman, and Riza might kill him from beyond the grave if he left this to any team less-skilled. And it was not a terrible idea to let the enemy think their plan was working; since it seemed their plan was to get him involved. Also, it was clear that at least one of their contacts, Renata and/or Bennie, could not be trusted: they would just have to find out which.

Pulling out the copy of Lt. Jackson's file that he still possessed, he opened it to the page with her photo. It was also some kind of luck that he would now have to work closely with the one woman he wanted to avoid because she reminded him of the one woman he could never have. If he believed in such things, he would say that the fates were conspiring against him.

 _But shit, she is talented,_ he thought as he perused her list of skills, training, and commendations. She had done several undercover operations for the General, each without even the slightest hitch. Apparently, acting was another of her strengths, in addition to speaking three languages fluently (Amestrian, Messinian, and Aerugonese), training in tactics and hand-to-hand combat, and her obvious status as 'best sniper in the fucking world.'

Mustang was slightly surprised: she could work for the Führer in a heartbeat if she wanted to with this résumé. _So why stick with Grumman?_ Aside from them being grandfather and granddaughter, of course. Still, blood must be thick there.

Looking back at her photo, he noticed a small scar above her right eye. Suddenly he got a flash of blond hair and a quietly dazzling smile. _Did Riza have a scar like that?_ He leafed through her file until he came to a page describing injuries she had sustained in the line of duty. One described a small wound above her right eye from shrapnel in Ishval. He must have been imagining things. Shaking his head to dispel the thought, Mustang took another swig from his glass, closed Jackson's file, and opened the ARF file. He had some reading to do.

* * *

Elizabeth went directly to the military hospital from the Eastern Command Center to check on Rebecca. She had been consistently busy since putting her in the ambulance, which had helped, but her concern for her friend remained in the back of her mind. There were times, particularly in situations where guns were of no use, that she felt completely helpless. Seeing her friend in that condition was one such time. She'd felt helpless in Ishval, also, against the genocide in which she was ordered to participate: god, she hated that feeling. Elizabeth quickened her pace when the hospital came into view, suddenly thinking that if she got there sooner, she might be able to do something.

When Elizabeth walked through the front doors, she strolled straight toward the reception desk and asked for Lt. Catalina's room. Climbing a few flights of stairs to the third floor, she then entered a corridor that was largely deserted except for the two soldiers she'd assigned to guard duty earlier. She approached and, when she stood in front of them, they saluted. Gesturing for them to be at ease, she asked:

"Have you had any updates on her condition?" Elizabeth looked from one soldier to the other, waiting for one to answer.

The man on the left spoke up, saying, "Yes, ma'am. She has a minor concussion as well some bruising. Her shoulder had been dislocated, but the doctors fixed that. They told us that she was knocked around but that overall, she's fine."

"Has she woken up at all?"

"She did wake up earlier, but fell back asleep. The staff has been keeping her under mild sedation to help with the pain and so she'll rest."

Elizabeth was a little relieved at this news. She wanted Rebecca to rest and recover, but she also did not want her to talk to just anyone about what happened. "Thank you. Has there been anything out of the ordinary while you've been watching her?"

"No, ma'am." This time the other soldier responded.

"No one asked about her? Or tried to see her? You haven't seen anyone snooping around?"

"No, ma'am."

"Very well. Take a break, get some food, and be back at 1900 hours. Guard duty will just be for tonight."

"Yes, ma'am."

As the two men walked away, Elizabeth entered Rebecca's hospital room. The room was a private one, with a window on the far wall in front of which was her friend's bed. The lamp from the bedside table between the window and the bed cast a soft light on the room and Rebecca's sleeping form. Elizabeth walked the length of the room, observing her surroundings and making sure they were indeed alone, and sat in the chair next to Catalina's bed. She took stock of the bandage around her head and the bruising that must have looked worse than it actually was. They had been so close ever since meeting at the academy; they were roommates from the beginning. All this time, Elizabeth had kept most of her secrets to herself, afraid that if she told Rebecca anything she would be putting her at risk. _Well, that worked out._

She needed to stop second-guessing herself on that point; it was too late for that anyway. However, she could not stop the thought that came next: _Maybe keeping her in the dark was for me too_. Perhaps it was easier to answer to an alias every day for years if your closest friend only knew you as that person.

Elizabeth also took this short opportunity in the silence of the hospital room to recognize the relief she'd felt so far concerning Mustang. So far, he had shown no signs of recognizing her true identity, even after she had to tell him almost everything. And she'd had less difficulty than anticipated in keeping any emotions at bay. Granted, he was still as gorgeous as ever, and Elizabeth still felt the need to meticulously observe her own habits. _But, so far, so good._ Hopefully, it would stay that way.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the hospital-room door. She had locked it behind her as a precaution and now stood to answer it, throwing a quick look at Rebecca who was still sleeping peacefully. Elizabeth opened the door a short distance and saw Lt. Havoc waiting on the other side. He looked up and she registered surprise on his face at seeing her there.

"I just wanted to see how she was doing," he told her. Elizabeth sidestepped and opened the door more fully, gesturing for him to pass through. She quickly, and quietly, summarized for him the information that had been given to her. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then thought better of it. Shortly after his entrance, a nurse arrived to check on the patient: he moved Rebecca's bandages to look at her wounds, took a look at the IV bag to verify drip-rate and dosage, noted something in her file, and then left with a nod to Lts. Jackson and Havoc.

Elizabeth resumed her place in her seat by Rebecca's bed and observed Havoc's indecisiveness: he took a step toward the chair across the bed from Elizabeth, turned and regressed the same distance, then went back and sat down. It seemed he could not decide whether he wanted to, or should, be there. He looked at Rebecca and, after only a few minutes, he again stood, saying something about being exhausted, and left.

Elizabeth allowed a small grin to come to her lips, still watching the door through which Lt. Havoc had just exited: _Well, someone's smitten. Aren't they?_ Returning her gaze to her friend, she wondered how Rebecca always managed to do that to men. She could talk to a guy for five minutes, and he'd be asking her out to dinner. Meanwhile, if Elizabeth had not scared them away in five minutes, it was a crazy night. She figured it must have something to do with how her friend was incredibly friendly and undamaged, whereas she was more on the damaged and unfriendly end of the spectrum. Elizabeth preferred to call it caution; Rebecca liked to refer to it as bitchiness.

When the two soldiers Elizabeth had placed on guard duty returned from their breaks, she told them she would be back fairly early in the morning to relieve them. Immediately leaving the hospital, she headed directly home and rummaged through her kitchen until she found the only bottle of liquor she owned: an unopened bottle of whiskey that had been a gift from her grandfather on her 21st birthday. In a rather uncharacteristic move, she poured herself a small drink and downed it in one gulp. Leaning her back against the counter, still holding the empty glass, she closed her eyes and felt the warmth spread from her chest to her fingertips and travel down her legs.

Elizabeth poured herself another drink, grabbed the note from her bag along with the photo she stole from his desk, and made her way to the armchair in the living room. She turned on the lamp on the table next to it, set her drink and note there, and then plopped down on the chair. After removing and setting aside her boots, she took a sip of the whiskey and picked up the note. Penned in her grandfather's scrawl, she saw:

 _Liz,_

 _Well, darling, something must have happened to me. Don't you feel bad: I'm sure it was some lunacy of my own making. I sincerely hope I'm not dead but, if I am, know that I love you and count myself lucky to have been able to spend these past years with you. I have every confidence that you will survive and prosper. You are so strong._

 _If I'm not dead…then hopefully we may be reunited soon and, when we are, you may lecture me as long as you like on whatever stupid thing I did. I promise I did not run off to a faraway island: if that were the case you, of course, could come too._

 _In either case, you may need something, and in this I may yet be able to aid you. If you need anything…anything at all, contact the woman listed below. She is incredibly resourceful and, if she is unable to assist you personally (which is unlikely), she will know someone who can._

 _Madame Christmas (Central City) -555-1436 (Just tell her Ol' Grummie sent you.)_

 _Good luck, my dear. With love, Grumman_

Elizabeth was simultaneously laughing and crying by the time she finished reading her grandfather's note. Only Grumman could manage that in a note written before being kidnapped by a terrorist organization. _And isn't it interesting that grandfather is involved with Mustang's adoptive-mother?_ She removed her holsters, setting one pistol on the table next to her. Then, drink in one hand, note in the other, she sat back to re-read and think about her next move.


	8. The Million-Dollar Question

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

 **AN:** A quick thank-you to those who have reviewed. Your feedback has been immensely helpful.

* * *

 **The Million-Dollar Question**

On Saturday morning, Colonel Mustang, Lt. Havoc, and Elizabeth all ended up at Rebecca Catalina's hospital room. Elizabeth arrived first to check on her friend and, a little while later, Mustang and Havoc came to hear Catalina's version of the previous day's events.

Unfortunately, she was unable to recall much: Grumman's meeting never showed, he went to the back to use the restroom, and after what seemed to Rebecca to be an inordinate amount of time in the bathroom, she followed. By the time she reached the rear of the restaurant, Grumman was being thrown in the back of the van and she only managed to get a glimpse of one man before she was knocked out. The next thing she remembered was waking up in the hospital with a nasty headache. She attempted to give a description of her assailant, and he resembled the driver of the van. The interview ended with everyone wondering what happened to the General in the interim.

"Ya know, Liz. You should really give the guy a chance," Rebecca admonished after Colonel Mustang left her hospital room with Lt. Havoc. It had been decided that Elizabeth would take Rebecca home, get her settled, and then go to Eastern Command to observe the interrogation of the men from the van.

"What do you mean? A chance to what?" Elizabeth asked in response, a quizzical expression on her face, as she helped gather her friend's effects into the duffel bag she used to bring her a change of clothes.

"Oh you know perfectly well what I'm talking about. You're doing that thing you do when you want to keep someone at arm's length." As she said this, Rebecca bustled about putting her coat on, tying her shoes, and shoving a couple pairs of hospital slippers into her bag. She'd always liked those.

"Hey! Stop stealing the damn slippers. You already have 5 pairs at your place: I saw them this morning." After a moment of more packing, Elizabeth added, "And I don't have a _thing_ , ok. People stay away from me simply because of my sparkling personality." She shot a smirk in Rebecca's direction.

"Oh you so have a thing. You get all ultra-business-like and polite with people when you don't want to get too close." Seeing Elizabeth's self-consciousness, she said, "Don't worry, it's not usually obvious, because it can be explained away as being professional. I only noticed because I've known you for so long. But what I want to know is _why_?"

"It's really nothing. He's a superior officer. That's it. I'm just being respectful," Elizabeth replied, perhaps a little too quickly. Rebecca, however, did not seem to notice and continued speaking.

"But what's also interesting is that he's kinda doing it to you too. When he spoke to me earlier, he acted like what I would expect from a ladies man Flame Alchemist…"

"Well, you sorta bring that out in people," Elizabeth interrupted.

With a glance at her friend, Rebecca continued, "But when he spoke to you, it was different. I can't quite describe it. Hey, you guys don't know each other from before, do you? Oooh, did you meet him when he lived with your cousin?"

Elizabeth could not fathom why Mustang would treat her differently; other than for the same reasons that men generally treated her and her friend differently. She met Rebecca's eager anticipation of gossip with: "No," which she may have said an iota too sharply. "I only ever saw him at the funeral, and we never even spoke. So, sorry to destroy your dreams of some sort of history with the legendary Mustang."

Rebecca gave Elizabeth a small grin and responded, "Well, anyway, give him the benefit of the doubt. He may be a player but, according to Jean, where his team is concerned he is devoted and loyal. As are they to him."

"Oh, it's _Jean_ now, huh?" She asked with a sly grin. Rebecca's face reddened and Elizabeth heard a mumbled 'shut up' as she grabbed her bag. With that, they left the hospital room in the direction of the car, chatting amicably about cute doctors. When they arrived at Rebecca's apartment, Elizabeth made sure she was comfortable, with enough tea and movies to practically relax the concussion away, and then left for Eastern Command.

* * *

Arriving at the Eastern Command Center, Elizabeth was completely unperturbed by the fact that it was the weekend. For one thing, her grandfather was missing. For another, she had a propensity for spending too much time at work anyway. She stopped by her own desk, in her grandfather's offices, to pick up a book she had left there, and also to make sure nothing had been disturbed: everything was just as she'd left it. Part of her had half hoped that she would walk into the office and he would be there, having returned in some magical and ridiculous way, with some story about an old friend from the academy, a bottle of whiskey, and how they hitched a ride home on a camel. He always had the craziest, most entertaining stories, and when she first moved here she lived with him and listened to his tales for hours.

Rather abruptly, her mind jumped to what Rebecca had said about giving Mustang the benefit of the doubt. She'd had to fight the strong urge to tell her friend what the Colonel did to her 'cousin' before she died. Elizabeth was fairly certain that all talk of giving chances would have flown out the window along with some choice expletives. But she decided against it: that story was too private, and would have had some holes that would have just brought on more questions she could not answer right now. The Jean/Rebecca development _was_ intriguing, though. Rebecca Catalina rarely blushed.

By this time, Elizabeth had left her office and reached the interrogation rooms where they had agreed to question the driver and passenger from the previous day. Opening the door to the observation room, she entered and found Fuery, Falman, and Breda already there. She being of higher rank, the men stood and saluted, returning to their tasks a moment later when she gave a nod. Looking around at the men and their set up, she actively recalled information from their files she'd read: Fuery was the tech-guy of the group, Falman was basically a walking and talking memory bank, Breda was an effective strategist, and Havoc was skilled in combat and acted as unofficial bodyguard for Mustang.

She turned and looked through the one-way glass and saw that the driver had already been brought to the interrogation room. Not recognizing him as one of the individuals that had spied on her in her previous life, Elizabeth picked up a file that had been compiled, which was discouragingly slim. Unfortunately, all they could verify was that both this man and his passenger were active members of the ARF. Since that organization's activities were carried out in Aerugo, for the most part, Amestris had had little reason to investigate individual members. However, this was also likely due to Amestris' strained relations with Aerugo because of the fighting along the countries' shared border.

Elizabeth half turned her head when she heard footsteps approaching in the hallway, the door opened and in walked Colonel Mustang and Lt. Havoc. She saluted Mustang who gave her the universal nod that said, "at ease."

"Ok everyone," Mustang began. "Let's get started. You all know what to do. Breda, go get the other prisoner and put him in the interrogation room on the other side of this observation room."

Several 'yes, sirs' were heard and Breda left the room to carry out his orders, followed by Mustang who grabbed the file and went into the first interrogation room.

* * *

A few hours later, Mustang was standing in front of the main entrance to what looked like an abandoned warehouse. The two-story brick building had the appearance of disuse and several windows had been broken. However, Mustang's interviews had told him that, contrary to its appearance, the solitary edifice was actually a commonly used location for the ARF. In addition, the driver claimed that, on the day of the General's disappearance, it was to this building that he was taken.

Therefore, after finishing the interrogations, the team had immediately gathered more soldiers to come investigate the site. Havoc was on his right, gun at the ready, with his usual unlit cigarette dangling from his lip. To Roy's left, Lt. Jackson had two pistols trained on the door and had once again shed her blue uniform coat, citing its effect of hampering her movements. Both Lieutenants awaited Mustang's signal, and the other teams of soldiers stationed at the various entrances to the building, were prepared to intercept anyone trying to escape.

Mustang raised one gloved hand and ignited a spark with a snapping motion. The fire followed the trail of oxygen he had created until it reached the entrance and, a moment later, the large, double doors exploded inward. When the dust cleared thanks to a light breeze, Jackson, Havoc, and Mustang moved cautiously toward the opening. When they entered the building, by the sunlight pouring in through windows they could see stacks of wooden boxes and crates.

Mustang strained his ears, trying to hear anything at all: the only sounds were their own footsteps. Ahead of them, he could see a large pathway in between two rows of stacked crates. Touching his earpiece, Roy told each team leader to enter the building, and sweep the area around their particular entrance. He received a chorus of crackly 'Yes, sirs,' and then to Jackson and Havoc he said, "Lieutenants, we'll take the center."

He saw Jackson and Havoc look at each other, and then Jackson holstered one weapon, taking a small flashlight off her belt instead and attaching it to her pistol. Havoc took out a similar flashlight and did the same: sunlight was becoming scarce as they reached the center of the building and were more fully surrounded by towers of crates. Then Mustang touched his ear piece once more: "If anyone finds a fuse box for this place, try to get us some lights."

Mustang started receiving the "all clear" from several teams. He then told teams two, four, and six to leave a man stationed at their assigned entrance and to then go check the second floor.

Suddenly, in the growing darkness, he heard Lt. Jackson's voice, "Colonel, there's what looks like a trail of blood in front of us, leading toward the center of the building." She shone her flashlight on the floor in front of him and he saw a few droplets of blood, and then ahead a few more. They slowly continued forward, until they reached an opening in the crates. Just when they stepped into it, Mustang heard, "Sir! We found the fuse box!" via his earpiece and the lights popped on.

When his eyes recovered from the brusque change from dark to light, he saw they stood at a clearing which was basically a meeting of four pathways between crates that formed a plus sign on the ground floor of the building. In the center of this clearing, the trail of blood drops stopped at a chair with lengths of rope on the ground around it. Behind it, there was a card table and four chairs, with the remnants of some take-out meal on it. Then, Mustang got the "all clear" for the second floor as well: there was no one in the building.

Mustang walked over to the card table and picked up one of the take-out containers, sniffing it, he said, "The food smells fresh. Someone was here at least semi-recently."

He saw Havoc kneel down to touch some of the droplets on the floor and then lift his finger up, still clean. "I don't know boss. Somebody may have been here, but it wasn't necessarily the General. Are we sure this guy told us the truth?"

Mustang looked at Havoc, mouth open to respond, when he heard Jackson's voice. She was kneeled down behind the lone chair, and said, "Yes, we are."

"How do you know?" Mustang asked. As he walked over to her, he saw her stand and turn to face him, dangling something between her left forefinger and thumb. It was a ring and looked to be white gold.

"Because this is his ring," Jackson replied, nodding to the piece of jewelry in her hand. "He _never_ takes it off. Until now, that is."

Mustang took the well-worn, thin band of metal from her and turned it over in his hands. "And how do you know it's his and not just some ring from a random ARF member?"

"Look at the inscription on the inside of the band." His eyes moved to the small, short inscription she pointed out. It was another language. The lettering was quite delicate and would have been easy to miss with a cursory glance. Lt. Jackson's voice softened a touch when she explained, her eyes never leaving the ring, "It's Messinian, and says 'My love.' The General's grandparents, on his mother's side, came to Amestris from Messinia. This was his grandmother's ring, and he always wears it. It's the only heirloom he has from that side of his family."

Mustang looked up at Jackson, catching her gaze. He gave her a small, but reassuring, smile, and said, "Here, Lieutenant. I think it's only fitting that you hold onto this."

She allowed him to set the ring on her open palm and returned his smile with one of her own, which was really just a slight elevation of the corners of her closed lips. He heard her say a quiet "Thank you."

Mustang continued speaking: "At least we know he was actually here." Then, more quietly, so only Jackson could hear him, he added, "Lieutenant, I think it's time we talk to that friend of yours."

She nodded and replied, "I agree. He still hasn't responded to me, but I know where to find him."

After checking out the second floor, and finding nothing of particular interest there, Mustang decided it was time for his team to leave. He ordered a few of the other teams to stick around, look for anything they may have missed, and open all the crates to see if any of the contents may be helpful. It was agreed that he, Havoc, Breda, Fuery, Falman, and Jackson would meet at the Colonel's offices in a couple hours to discuss their plans to apprehend and question Bennie. They each had an errand to run, and Jackson wanted to quickly check-in with Rebecca.

Mustang, however, skipped the 'break,' picking up tea in the mess hall, and went straight to his office. He had a call to make and, knowing the recipient, it may take just that long to get a word in at all. Both looking forward to and dreading the call, he picked up the phone and dialed a well-known number in Central City. It rang a few times, and then:

"Hello?" A cheerful voice sounded on the other end.

"Hi, Gracia, how are you?" He smiled, in spite of the whole Grumman situation. She was always so friendly.

"Oh, Roy! How wonderful to hear from you! We are wonderful. And you?"

"Can't complain. Just getting used to my new surroundings out here."

"Yes, we heard about the missing General. How terrible! I'm betting you called to speak with Maes?"

"Yes, please."

"No problem. Hold on just a moment." He barely had to wait ten seconds before he heard footsteps and then his friend on the line saying,

"Hey! Roy! How's it goin'?"

"Hey, Maes, pretty good. So, I have…"

"Isn't my wife just lovely?!" Maes interrupted him with his usual bragging about being incredibly happily married and general satisfaction with life. "I keep telling her she gets more beautiful every day. We haven't seen you in a while! I'll have to send you a photo!"

"Hey, Maes, I'm so glad that…"

"Because, guess what?! We're officially trying to have a baby! And Gracia just has this pre-pregnancy glow."

"I'm so happy you're getting laid regularly."

"Hey, thanks buddy! So is there a special lady yet out in East City? Because Gracia has this friend and _I_ think that you guys wou…"

"Maes! Really happy for ya, man, but I do need to talk to you. It's serious." Roy practically had to shout to drown out Maes and get him to cease his blabbering about setting Mustang up with someone. That did _not_ go terribly well the last time he let Maes arrange a blind date for him.

Finally, Maes said, "Oh…ok. Is everything ok?" His voice was laced with true concern.

"I'm fine. But, I need you to look into something for me. I just can't tell you all the details."

"Anything."

This was going to sting a little. "A few years back a young woman died. Her name was Riza Hawkeye. You probably wouldn't have heard about it. She was from a town way out in the middle of nowhere, and her death wouldn't have made news. Anyway, I need you to look into her death and tell me if you see any evidence of foul play, anything strange. I now have reason to believe that she may not have died of natural causes as people were led to believe."

Maes was silent a short time then said, "Hey, Roy. Wasn't your alchemy master...?"

"Yeah," Roy quickly replied, before his friend could finish the question.

"Ok. I'll get right on it."

"Thanks. You be good to that wife of yours, Maes. I gotta go."

"Ok. See ya later."

Mustang heard the click on the other end and knew the call had been ended. He hung up the handset and his hand formed a fist which he slammed on the desktop. He would find out for sure if these bastards had killed Riza.

* * *

 **AN:** Hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter coming soon!


	9. The Crow's Foot

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **The Crow's Foot**

"Becca, I'm really not sure it's a great idea for you to come," Elizabeth told her friend, full of concern. "You were _just_ released from the hospital. Shouldn't you rest?" They were at Eastern Command to meet with Colonel Mustang and his team regarding the mission to bring Bennie in for questioning. Elizabeth had tried to convince Rebecca to stay home, but she refused.

"You think I'm going to let you have Jean _and_ Mr. Sexy Flame Alchemist to yourself all night? You're out of your mind," Rebecca replied as they navigated corridors to reach Mustang's offices.

"Please tell me that's not the only reason you're insisting on coming," Elizabeth said with a chuckle.

Rebecca stopped Elizabeth with a hand on her arm and faced her, saying, "Of course not. Look, Liz, the General has always been like an unofficial grandfather to me too. I just want to help bring him home." One side of her mouth quirked up, and she added, "The Hottie Brigade is just a nice perk. Besides, I feel fine."

"I know, Becca. I just want to make sure you're ok." Then, Elizabeth laughed and said, " _The Hottie Brigade_? You must be back to normal." They started walking again towards Mustang's office, which was at the end of the hallway.

"Yeah. Do you like it? I came up with it watching movies today." The smile was clear in her voice: she was obviously pleased with herself.

"It's not bad. Just don't let them hear it. I think their egos are big enough as it is," Elizabeth responded as they entered Mustang's office. When she'd finished talking, she heard Breda ask, after he saluted:

"Whose egos are big enough already?" He had a knowing smirk on his face, as if he was aware they could only be talking about Mustang and Havoc.

"Oh, no one you know," Rebecca responded, with a smile.

Breda added, "The boss is in his office, Havoc will be back shortly, and then we'll get started. Would you like some tea? There's some in the corner over there." He pointed to the corner of the room behind him to his left.

Both Elizabeth and Rebecca replied with, "Thanks" and moved to prepare themselves cups of tea. Claiming a bench along the wall, they sat down to continue their chat until the meeting began. At one point, Falman, Fuery, and Breda had all joined them, and they were talking and laughing enthusiastically, when Havoc entered the room and said:

"Ok everyone. Meeting time." He walked into Mustang's office and held the door as the others entered. Mustang stood behind his desk, perusing what appeared to be the building plans for the bar where their mission would take place. Rebecca and Elizabeth saluted, but were waved off.

"Alright," Mustang began. "I just got word from Central. I have officially been put in charge of the search for General Grumman" He looked at Elizabeth and added, "Lieutenant, you are a member of my team for the duration of the investigation." Elizabeth nodded her understanding and remained silent, waiting to see what came next.

"Also, they are sending General Armstrong to direct Eastern's affairs during Grumman's absence so that our efforts may be focused solely on the General. And now, to this evening's mission: Jackson, what else can you tell us about this Bennie?"

"He is a contact of mine in the area that happens to know a great deal about the ARF, the group we believe has taken the General. He works for a different organization, but is originally from Aerugo, and thus familiar with their activities. He likes to hang out, and conduct business, at a bar right on the edge of the seedier part of town, called the Crow's Foot. The plans of which are, I believe, in front of us."

Mustang nodded and asked, "What is his business?"

"Other than the bar, he's into number running, illicit gambling, and he deals in some drugs. He's pretty small-time, but his bosses own some of the bigger establishments in Central City. In fact, what is not shown on these plans are a set of rooms in the basement which are used largely for gambling, storage, and office space." Pointing to a wall near the restrooms, she added, "There is a door, here, that leads to the underground space."

"Ok, here's the plan," Mustang began, and started to tell them the details of his strategy for finding and questioning Bennie regarding Grumman's disappearance. When he finished, everyone left to prepare for their role in the operation.

* * *

Later that same evening, Mustang stood at the bar at the Crow's Foot, having just been served a whiskey, neat, by Breda who was playing bartender for the evening. The bar was quite busy and Roy had stationed himself at a stool on the end of the bar nearest the door. He was awaiting the arrival of the rest of the team that would be inside the bar; Jackson and Catalina were expected to arrive at any moment. Fuery and Falman were outside acting as surveillance and back-up, if necessary. So far, neither he nor Breda had seen any sign of Bennie, so it looked like they would have to find an opportunity to enter the basement after all.

Taking a look around the bar under the not-so-false guise of checking out the women therein, Roy heard the door of the bar open behind him to his right. He turned back to his drink, then looked up to the mirror behind all the bottles of liquor to see if it was indeed Catalina and Jackson that had arrived. He had to actively think about not letting his jaw drop open in order to keep it in place. _She looks stunning_ : her hair was down, a smile shone from her face, and the outfit she wore hugged her body in all the perfect places. But he needed to keep thoughts like those in check: they were in the early stages of an operation, _and_ there was the whole Riza's cousin/lookalike thing. _Head in the game, Mustang_.

The two women made their way to a place further down the bar and ordered drinks from Breda, who would pass Jackson an update via the napkin under her glass. _No sign of target_. Mustang was looking at her in the mirror, after she received her beverage, when she made short-lived eye contact with him. It was all the proof he required that she understood the need to find an opportunity to get to the building's basement.

Catalina and Jackson maintained their position, flirting sporadically with Breda and a few guys that came to speak with them to uphold their 'ladies night out' appearance. They waited for a little while like that: the ladies chatting and Roy enjoying his whiskey at the end of the bar. However, Bennie still had not put in an appearance. When Mustang heard the door open again, he figured Havoc had made his entrance. His hunch was confirmed when Havoc sat down next to him, greeting him with a few words and a slap on the back, and waving Breda over to order a drink.

It had been decided earlier that, in the event of Bennie's absence from the bar proper, the men would join Jackson and Catalina. After some undefined yet adequate amount of time, Catalina would create a distraction for the guard at the basement door to allow Mustang and Jackson to enter. The door did not appear to be locked, and the bar was sufficiently busy that no one should notice them slipping through it. From there, they would look for Jackson's recently uncommunicative informant and persuade him to be more helpful.

Mustang and Havoc talked and joked for a while and, in the meantime, Havoc not infrequently checked out Catalina. Mustang was not sure if this was entirely for the benefit of the mission, and hoped that Havoc had not noticed Roy's own occasional glances in Jackson's direction. After an acceptable duration, the two men left their seats and ambled over toward Catalina and Jackson. Havoc started them off, and Roy donned his smirk of confidence:

"Hey there, beautiful," Havoc said, looking at Catalina. "Are you gonna buy me a drink, or what?" Rebecca laughed, recognizing the line as her own opener when they first met.

"Well, I can't very well say no to that. Can I?" she replied, waving Breda over in the process. Sticking her hand out to shake his, she added, "Hi, I'm Becca." Then, pointing a thumb in Jackson's direction, she said, "And this is my friend Liz."

"It's a pleasure, Becca. I'm Jean, and this is Roy." Handshakes and greetings went around the group, and Havoc moved to the bar to order his next drink. Catalina turned to chat with him, leaving Jackson and Mustang to their own devices. Eyes meeting briefly once more, they shared a small, slightly awkward smile and then, raising his eyebrows and gesturing toward the bar, Roy said:

"Care for another drink?" She nodded and he asked, "Gin and tonic?" They both turned as laughter erupted from Rebecca's and Jean's conversation, and then returned to their own.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Jackson queried, amused smirk on her face, tilting her head somewhat to the left.

"Just a lucky guess, I suppose. So, Liz, what do you do?" He was curious what she would come up with since they did not establish specific covers for such a small operation.

"I'm a florist here in East City. Becca and I work together, actually." She took her fresh beverage from Roy's outstretched hand, stirring it and nodding to convey her thanks as she spoke.

"Oh, really? That's interesting. Do you get a lot of business here?" _She thinks well on her feet._

"Yes, quite a bit. We do weddings, parties…events of all kinds, really. And what about you, Roy?"

He liked the way his name sounded when she said it. "I'm a professional babysitter. I have four kids that I watch pretty much every day." She chuckled at that, giving him a full grin, aware that his team would likely describe things differently. Looking down at his glass, Roy drank from it and returned his gaze to her. Their separate conversations continued for a time until Mustang looked at Havoc, who gave Catalina a meaningful look. She then turned around and excitedly said, "Ooh, let's dance!" The four moved toward the dance floor, Havoc and Catalina commandeering an opening on the floor near the entrance to the basement, and Jackson and Mustang claiming a table nearby.

Once again, they continued as they were, waiting for an opportunity for Catalina to "make her move." Choosing a moment when the guard was unoccupied, Rebecca slapped Havoc, initiating a fake fight. As the volume of their voices rose, they shouted things like "I _know_ you slept with her!" and " _Me?!_ What about you? I've seen you checking other guys out all night!" The guard's attention immediately went to the disturbance close by on the dance floor.

As the argument escalated, Catalina even shoving Havoc once or twice, Jackson grabbed Mustang's hand and with a suggestive look slowly led him the short distance to the door. Turning to face him, she put her back to the door, pulled his body up against hers, and put her arms around him. _Smart move: to anyone else they would look like two tipsy bar patrons looking for a secluded place to make-out_.

In that moment he was _incredibly_ aware of his proximity to her, the pressure of her hands moving up his chest, and her breath hitting his neck. His hands had gone immediately and instinctively to her hips, and he now slowly moved them up along her waist. Had he been looking at her face, he would have seen a light blush warm her cheeks.

She whispered in his ear, "All clear," and he felt a mild shiver run down his spine. In response, his hands moved to her back, then down, and turned the doorknob. They quickly and quietly followed the opening door and then found themselves at the top of a set of stairs leading to the basement, Mustang's back now to the door. They looked at each other for a half-second, both trying to calm unexpectedly rapid heartbeats, and oblivious to the effect they'd had on the other.

Jackson broke their physical contact, turning around and ensuring she would have easy access to the pistol at her back. She slipped her left hand into the crook of his right arm and let loose a flirtatious giggle: they were just two customers having a good time who had come downstairs for some illegal gambling. They belonged. He donned his left glove, just to be safe: they had concluded previously that it would be best to resort to weapons and flame alchemy only if absolutely necessary, in an effort to minimize their risk of detection. Still, it was better to be prepared.

Upon reaching the bottom, Jackson slowed, established her balance, and swayed sideways just enough to peek through the doorway. She glanced at him with a quick nod and they moved into the corridor in front of them. It had a white tiled floor, beige walls, and three doors on each side that were staggered; the last door was on the right up ahead. The hallway dead-ended into another that extended to both the left and right. They walked, still playing the part, drunkenly weaving on their path and chatting playfully. At one point, a man with a handful of poker chips came out of the last door on the right, passed them, and then entered the second door on the left: he did not pay them any attention.

Mustang and Jackson reached the end of the corridor, occasionally bumping into each other and laughing, and turned to the right. They were heading towards the office usually occupied by Bennie: it had seemed more logical to try the office first, as opposed to just popping in on random gambling rooms. The portion of hallway they were in had two doors on each side and another directly in front of them, which led to another set of stairs, where the passage turned right once more. All in all, the underground corridors formed something like a 'W' shape.

They followed the hallway to the right and Jackson stopped in front of the second door down on the right. Jackson drew her weapon and Mustang put a hand on the doorknob raising his eyebrows, silently asking if she was ready. Seeing her nod, he turned the knob, pushing the door inward, and Jackson swiftly moved inside the room, gun moving as she searched for potential targets. Following her inside, he saw that the lights were on but no one was in there. They were standing just inside, door still open, when they heard another open further down the hallway. Footsteps sounded leaving that room and heading in their direction.

Jackson quickly holstered her weapon and, this time, Roy decided to take the lead. He grabbed her, pulling her into his arms again and turned them around to make it look like he was drawing her into the room after him. Putting on his best pleading voice he said:

"Aww…come _on_ , babe. Nobody's here." He winked at her.

She moved her hands around his neck and replied in a flirtatious voice, "No! We're not gonna do _that_. Not _here_! You're terrible!"

Roy chuckled and then looked up, as if startled, when he saw a guard (a different man from out in the bar) appear in the doorway and heard him say sternly, "Hey! What the hell are you two doing here?"

Jackson turned and, stumbling forward a couple steps, directed a big drunken smile towards him and responded, "Oh hi! Where'd you come from?" Giggling, she added, "I'm just lookin' for somewhere my boyfriend and I can…um… _be alone_." Then, with an exaggerated frown and somewhat whiny voice to show her extreme disappointment, "But I can't find anywhere. You guys need more make-out rooms here, ya know that?"

"Well, you two will have to come with me. You can't be hanging out down here." The guard took another step into the office, presumably to get behind them and usher them out, when Roy saw Jackson's arm lash out. She threw a quick punch to the guard's side, and then brought her elbow around to meet his face. Having the man slightly off-kilter and bent over, she brought her knee up to contact his head as well. The guard slumped forward, unconscious, and Mustang pulled him further into the office, turning to quietly close the door.

He watched as Jackson drew the guard's weapon, ejected the mag, and removed a bullet from the chamber. She then placed the various parts of the firearm in different locations in the office. They had just hidden the man in a closet when they heard more footsteps approaching the door. Making quick eye contact with Jackson, Mustang cockily placed himself in the chair behind the desk. Jackson drew her weapon and positioned herself to the side of the door so she would be concealed by the it if it opened.

After a few moments, the door opened and a rather short, dark-haired man entered. His head was bent and he was reading something as he was walking. He closed the door behind him absentmindedly and his eyes widened in astonishment when he looked up and saw Roy sitting at his desk, grinning mischievously. A nanosecond later, the sound of a gun being cocked could be heard disconcertingly close to the man's head. When he moved his gaze to his right, Jackson gave him a wry smile, and greeted him with:

"Hey there, Bennie. Long time. Ya know, I really don't appreciate being ignored."

* * *

 **AN:** I hope you liked it! I've been updating approximately every 5 or 6 days and I'll do my best to keep the pattern consistent. Thank you for reading!


	10. A Late-Night Chat

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **A Late-night Chat**

Bennie's eyes grew wide in terror as he stared down the barrel of Jackson's gun. "I wasn't ignoring you, Elizabeth, I just didn't…reply yet," Bennie replied, the fear was evident in his voice, as well. Clearly, he was not used to someone like Elizabeth Jackson aiming a pistol at his head. She really could be terrifying when she wanted to be.

"Hey, _babe_?" Elizabeth said, directing her question toward Colonel Mustang, who was still seated at Bennie's desk. Mustang looked at her, eyebrows raised, displaying good-natured curiosity.

"Yes, _Elizabeth_?"

"What do you think? Am I over-reacting?" Elizabeth shot an exaggerated questioning look in Mustang's direction. She quickly returned her gaze to Bennie, who had beads of sweat running down the sides of his face.

Mustang stood and slowly walked to stand in front of Bennie, feigning an expression of deep thought. "Well, Elizabeth. You've tried to talk to him, what, 5 times? And he hasn't responded? Sounds to me like he needs to show a little more respect."

At this, Bennie's face lost all its color, and he unintentionally released a soft noise of fright.

"I thought so too," Elizabeth replied, self-satisfied. "It's really quite rude, Bennie." She lightly tapped his head with the muzzle of her pistol to urge him to move, "Let's get going."

"Going where?" Bennie's eyes darted from Jackson's gun, to her face, and then to Mustang again.

"We have a few questions for you," Mustang interjected. "We've wanted to talk to you for a little while now." His smirk was in its usual place, arms crossed over his chest.

"You can't make me go anywhere." Bennie's feeble attempt at defiance was soon quelled.

"Oh, can't we?" Mustang queried, while moving his eyes to Elizabeth's pistol to remind Bennie of the exact situation in which he found himself.

Then, Elizabeth moved her pistol to meet his thigh and said, "I _could_ shoot you in the leg and drag you out. I'm sure it would be more pleasant for you if I didn't, though." She knew Bennie was a bit of a coward and would likely respond to such a threat. Moving the pistol back to his temple, she awaited his reaction.

"Fine…Fine!" He finally shouted.

"And you'll make sure we won't be seen?" Mustang politely asked.

"Of course!" Bennie paused to take a few shallow breaths and then continued. "We can go out through the back.

"Ahh, the stairs up to receiving?" Elizabeth knowingly provided.

"Ye..yes. How'd you know?" Bennie was genuinely confused.

"I've done my homework, Bennie." Elizabeth allowed herself a smirk; for someone who'd lived his life in the criminal world, he was rather meek.

* * *

" _What_ is your problem?" Rebecca quietly asked, her question directed at Elizabeth who was sitting next to her on the 1:00 AM ride back to Eastern Command.

"Huh? I don't have a problem," Elizabeth replied, keeping her response low and soft. She took a moment to look at her own body language: her legs were legs crossed, one bouncing agitatedly over the other, and her arms were interlocked over her chest as she glowered straight ahead. Even Elizabeth had to admit that her demeanor was full of attitude at the moment. Ok, so _maybe_ she looked a little sulky. Maybe.

"Oh my ass." Count on Rebecca to be exceptionally eloquent in nearly every situation. They were alone in the back seat of the car; Breda was driving and Feury was in the front passenger seat. Havoc, Mustang, and Falman had taken the vehicle with their 'guest' and were directly in front of them.

"I'm sorry. I'm just on edge. I hope we can get something from this guy. Otherwise, I don't know _what_ we'll do." In all actuality, that was only part of the truth. Naturally, after the evening they just had, it was impossible not to think about how up close and personal she had gotten with the Colonel. Elizabeth was painfully reminded of their past: how she thought they really had something (more than just the physical part), how he got what he wanted (a.k.a. Flame Alchemy), how he left (never to be heard from again). _Naïve little Riza_. Clearly, she'd been wrong about their relationship. And part of her, the part that supported that anger, wanted to despise him.

Meanwhile, another part shivered upon recalling the sensation of his hands on her waist again: they were so warm they could be felt through her blouse, with just the right amount of pressure. _Dammit._ Elizabeth could not believe she'd let him affect her that much. Now that she thought about it, it was possible his body reacted, just a little, when she touched him. That was probably wishful thinking, though.

"We _will_ , don't worry. And, anyway, Colonel Mustang is known for being a brilliant strategist. Worst case scenario? We'll figure something out." Rebecca placed her hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. She really wanted to comfort her friend, and knew this whole situation must be difficult. First her grandfather disappeared, and then she was assigned to the team searching for him: it could not be easy.

"I know. Thank you. I just hate that he's gone." Elizabeth gave Rebecca a wry smile and put her own hand over that of her friend. She appreciated the comfort, she really did.

"Not _gone_. We'll bring him back. And, by the way, great job tonight. Ya know, you two have real chemistry with this stuff." Rebecca held up her hand to preemptively stop Elizabeth's protest. "Fuery said he'd been watching you guys on the video feed, just to be safe. He said you and Mustang were so…believable."

At this, Fuery chimed in, saying, "Yeah! The Boss has always been a great on undercover ops, but this was nuts. You guys didn't even have to talk much, you just _did_ things. And it worked." While he told them this, Fuery had turned to face them and his expression was one of awe.

Elizabeth waved him off, evading the compliment by saying, "Nah. I've just done undercover work before. That's all." By that time, they had almost arrived at Eastern Command and all conversation not business-related ceased. Breda and Fuery were deciding where to park, and Rebecca and Elizabeth were preparing to leave the vehicle. It was already late, and this was gearing up to be a long night.

* * *

Elizabeth personally walked a hand-cuffed Bennie to the interrogation room, with Rebecca on the other side of the prisoner. She did her best not to be rougher with him than necessary: her grandfather' kidnapping was apparently getting to her. _You can do this_.

It was Bennie that broke the silence: "Is your name even Elizabeth?"

"Does it matter?" Elizabeth did not even spare him a glance. She continued walking straight ahead, left hand at his elbow to guide him and right free to draw her pistol if necessary.

"Yeah! I thought we developed some trust." Bennie's voice sounded almost hopeful, as though if he pled to this woman's sense of comradery she would let him go.

"Ha!" Her chuckle was sharp and nearly free of mirth. "Yes, because _you_ are known as the most trustworthy of criminals. Even Papa Trib says so." She smirked, knowing that the mention of Bennie's boss would throw him even further off balance.

"Ok, fine. So I'm not the most upstanding guy. But I never lied to you."

"I'm sure you didn't." Elizabeth's skepticism was loud and clear.

"Really! The only reason I didn't reply to you is because my boss is onto me. I can't have him thinkin' I'm talking to anyone about him."

Elizabeth glanced at him and told him, "Well, Bennie, after this final interview consider yourself no longer my informant." With her last sentence, they had reached the interrogation room, and she opened the door, took him inside and left him there. Falman walked up to her and Rebecca, informing them that he'd been ordered to keep an eye on Bennie until Mustang arrived for the interrogation. Elizabeth nodded and started to walk away when Rebecca asked her:

"Where ya goin'?"

"To get some coffee. I'm gonna need it. Wanna come?"

Rebecca nodded and took a few steps to catch up with her and they walked toward the mess hall together. "I don't know how you put up with that guy," Rebecca began. "He seems sorta, slimy." The last word was accompanied by a shudder that expressed the full extent to which Bennie creeped her out.

Elizabeth laughed and replied, "Eh…he had information and I needed it. But, yes. He is…slimy."

"It feels so weird being at HQ lookin' all hot like we are. I look fantastic, and it's just being wasted here."

"Not totally. Havoc's been checkin' you out all night. Can't keep his eyes off of you. It's kinda cute." She saw her friend's face redden and, after another second, she added, "By the way, your fight at the bar was awesome. Good idea."

Rebecca smiled in response, saying with a shrug, "Thanks. It was actually fun. And what you did with Mr. Flame? Pretty hot. I think the lady-killer blushed."

"Oh no he did _not_!" Then, after a pause, "Holy crap! I almost forgot. Do you remember when THE song came on? I had to fight to not go dance!"

"You mean the one from that party at Dave's a few months ago? YES!"

Both women stopped in the middle of the corridor leading to the mess hall. They did a ridiculously awkward dance move involving arms stuck straight out to their sides and a strange knee-jerk motion, and then burst into peals of laughter. "It gets me every time," Rebecca managed to say while clutching her side and trying to stay upright. "I remember Dave doing that all night at the party, but I didn't know if he was drunk, or if that was just how he danced."

"Maybe a bit of both. But he was also trying to seduce you." Elizabeth had started tearing up she was laughing so hard, and she was wiping tears from her eyes as they continued their walk to the cafeteria.

"You _cannot_ be serious," Rebecca responded, in shock.

"As the Führer. Yeah…he had a major crush on you. When he came to talk to me that night, he said someone told him you only date guys that dance. So…"

"Wow. Just, wow." The two ladies had reached the coffee cart in the mess hall which was kept warm and well-stocked for those occasions when military personnel needed to work late. They prepared their coffee: black with just a little bit of milk for Elizabeth and two sugars for Rebecca.

* * *

By the time they had gotten their coffee and returned to the interrogation rooms, everyone else had arrived and Elizabeth was feeling substantially more cheerful: Rebecca always had that effect on her. They went into the viewing room, greeting the rest of the team casually; everyone was a little too tired to observe all the military formalities. Everyone gathered near the tinted glass to watch the upcoming interrogation.

Mustang exited the room and joined Bennie in the other, unceremoniously slamming the door shut, making Bennie jump. He walked behind his quarry, then around to the other side of the table, letting a thick file he carried fall heavily on its surface. Then, he turned around, arms crossed in front of his chest, to face the tinted glass standing between him and the rest of his team.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at Rebecca, who laughed softly, as they watched him appraise his own reflection, clearly pleased by what he saw. He then gave them all a self-satisfied smirk and faced Bennie once more.

"So, Bennie. I hear you know quite a bit about a little group known as the ARF." He looked carefully at the man he spoke too, who was using every ounce of energy he had to look anywhere but Colonel Mustang. "So?" He raised his eyebrows along with his hands in a quizzical gesture.

Bennie looked at him, foot tapping the ground furiously. "I don't know what you're talking about, man. Did Elizabeth tell you that? Ya know, you can't trust her. Elizabeth's probably not even her real name. I've never heard of the ARF. Is that what it was called?" All this was said rapidly, the last part with a half-assed chuckle, making it clear just how uncomfortable Bennie was.

"Are you sure? She seems pretty trustworthy to me. For instance, she told me you're originally from Aerugo, is that correct?" Mustang watched his interlocutor, waiting for his verbal response as well as his body language which, up to that point, had been tense.

"Um…yes. That…that's true." It seemed that Bennie hardly wanted to admit to his own birthplace.

"Now we're getting somewhere. So, Bennie, you need to tell me what you know about an individual kidnapped by the ARF yesterday."

"What? I don't know nothin' about that. A guy was kidnapped? That's terrible."

"See, now I _know_ you're holding out on me. I didn't tell you it was a guy." Mustang's expression was suddenly severe, to demonstrate to Bennie just how much he did not like to be fucked with.

Bennie's face was drained of any colored that remained, and his eyes began to dart all over the room, as though he was searching for an escape of some kind. Mustang continued, tapping on the file in front of him:

"Do you know what this is?" Bennie shook his head, so Mustang added, "This is a file containing a great deal of information…about you. For instance, we have all the outstanding warrants for your arrest in Aerugo, where you could, of course, be extradited if you don't help us out. I'm sure you have some family you'd like to see."

The expression of terror continued to intensify on Bennie's face, and his hands tightly gripped the bottom of the chair he occupied. While he allowed that to sink in, Mustang opened the file, skimmed the contents, and then spoke:

"You've done some pretty nasty things, Bennie. Aerugo is really not pleased with you." Almost as if it were an afterthought, he added, "And that's not even counting everything that we saw tonight. Is it, Elizabeth?" Mustang turned in his seat to face the glass once more.

Elizabeth approached the table full of the recording and surveillance equipment connected to the interrogation room. She pushed the button for the intercom Feury pointed her to, and started to outline some of the illegal activities they'd witnessed in the same way she might cheerfully recite her grocery list.

"Oh, wow, no. Geez…there were all those rooms where illegal gambling was taking place, and the drug deal the bartender handled. And there sure were a lot of weapons in that receiving area, those can't all be legit. Not to mention all those armed guards who may not have licenses for concealed carry, so that would have to be checked out. There's just _so much_. If we look into all of it, I suppose that could really disrupt business." She made sure to convey feigned concern with her voice.

"Yes, thank you, Elizabeth," Mustang replied, returning his gaze to his interviewee's face.

By this time, Bennie had nearly lost all evidence of being alive, such was his shock. Finally, he started speaking again: "Ok, ok, ok. I'll tell you what you wanna know. Just…don't send me back there, ok? I can't go back to Aerugo. I can't." The note of pleading in his voice intensified with each word he said: they had him.

"Wonderful," Mustang grinned appreciatively. "I'm so glad you've decided to cooperate. What do you know about the kidnapping that took place yesterday?"

"Ok, all I know is the dude was somebody important, high-up, and that he's already gone. Ok?" In the viewing room, Elizabeth stiffened with a sharp inhalation while Rebecca concurrently lifted her left hand and grabbed her friend's right arm with it.

"When did they take him out?" Mustang asked, with a bit more force than his previous questions.

"Early this morning, but I don't know how they'd get 'im over the border." Elizabeth placed her hand over the one Rebecca had on her arm and they shared a concerned look. _Already gone?_

"So you know where they're taking him. And where is that?"

"Anissi: a city in Southern Aerugo, where the ARF started," Bennie replied.

"Why do they want him?"

"I don't know, man, seriously. I swear, I told ya everything I know. Ok?"

"You can do better than this, Bennie." Elizabeth, along with Mustang and the rest of his team, continued to visually examine Bennie, looking for any sign that he was lying or holding out.

The small-time crook withered under Mustang's glare and, after a minute of thought, he added, "Ok…I have a couple buddies in the ARF. I hadn't seen 'em in a few years and then, all of a sudden, they start comin' back around within the last 6 months. They hang out at my bar, and I hear some of their conversations." Bennie shrugged and then paused, but Mustang urged him to continue with a nod. Everyone in the viewing room listened with bated breath, waiting for and fearing what might come next.

"Last week, they were talking to someone about 'the old guy.' I heard the name Renata a few times, and my buddy said something to her about an 'important package' and 'the message.' Then he told her they were picking it up on Friday. And that's _really_ all I know."

Back in the observation room, Elizabeth's right hand formed a fist but she quickly forced it to relax. _That bitch_ , was all she could think. Logically, she'd figured that someone must have betrayed them, and she honestly did not think Bennie capable of being a successful double-agent. That left Renata as most likely traitor, and now her suspicions had been confirmed.

Hearing the door open, she looked around, saw Mustang enter. They both understood the full significance of that last bit of information. He ordered Falman to take Bennie to a cell: he would keep him there for the night in case he had any other questions. Then, Mustang looked around at the rest of the group and said with a smile, "Well, who's up for a trip to Aerugo?"

* * *

 **AN:** Yay for update day! I got so excited to update. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you like the chapter.

And to the guest who reviewed the last chapter, thank you for your comments and I'm so happy you're enjoying the story so far!


	11. A Fair Trade

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **A Fair Trade**

Roy was in his office with Lts. Jackson and Havoc discussing their current situation. It was extremely late, or early depending on your perspective, and they were a few cups of coffee deep. Not only did they have to take the operation to an international level, they had to do it in one of the countries with the worst possible relations with Amestris. Add to that the fact that Amestris was especially hated, well, everywhere, and that meant they needed to remove all military trappings.

"We'll have to go through an outside source for fake identities. We can't go in with our true names nor should we use military connections to obtain documents," Roy stated to no one particular person in their small group; his mind was racing through his planning process. He had a giant map spread on his desk, which he'd cleared off for just that purpose. Standing where his chair usually was, the window at his back, he looked up at Havoc directly across from him and then to Jackson on his right. Both Lieutenants were gazing at the map, eyes flitting to various locations, running ideas through their minds.

Jackson looked up at him and said, "Actually, Colonel, I know a guy we could use for that." She disliked revealing her forger, but they desperately needed several false identities; and he was incredibly skilled, and trustworthy.

With Havoc, Roy shared a look of surprise, wondering why she might be linked in any way to a counterfeiter. "You know a guy?" His eyebrows were still a little higher than usual, his skepticism on full display.

"Yes, sir," Jackson affirmed, nodding and looking from one man to the other. "He is the most skilled document forger I have ever come across. And, he is trustworthy; I've worked with him on and off for some time."

"What's his name?" Roy asked, thinking he could call Madame Christmas and get her opinion of the individual.

"Well, he's secretive, for obvious reasons. I'll set up a meeting, you can speak with him, and decide what you want. Would that work?"

Jackson continued to look at him, waiting for his response. He could at least speak with the man and see for himself. It would be better to find an individual with whom at least someone had experience. He could always make inquiries with Madame Christmas after the meeting. After pondering for a few seconds longer, he nodded his agreement, "Ok, set it up as soon as you can." After a moment he added, "And why have you worked with a forger _not_ connected with the military?"

"It's no big deal," she shrugged. "For some of the undercover work I did for the General we needed to use an outside source."

Roy studied her face and demeanor for a short time. He had difficulties doubting the integrity of anyone that had worked closely with the General. More specifically, of someone that had been with him for an extended period of time, such as Jackson. If there was any man with the ability to discover a traitor close to him, it was Grumman. No, he did not suspect Jackson, or Catalina for that matter, of betraying the General: that was definitely Renata. However, there was a slight evasiveness to Jackson's response regarding the counterfeiter that had him thinking there was something she was not telling them. Still, he found himself trusting her.

"Very well," he nodded. He was about to speak again when he heard Jackson's voice once more.

"And, sir? May I make a suggestion?" He assented and she continued. "You should add Catalina to your team for the remainder of the investigation, particularly since we have to go out of country."

Mustang glanced at Havoc and, with a swift narrowing of the eyes, indicated that he should wipe that stupidly hopeful grin off his face. "Why is that, Lieutenant?" he queried, eyes returning to Jackson.

"Well, as you've seen, she's skilled in covert situations. And Becca's one hell of a medic, sir." When Roy provided no immediate response, she began to explain further. "We've discussed the necessity of keeping a low profile. So staying away from hospitals would be ideal and, if anyone were injured, we could use someone with medical training."

Wordlessly, Roy picked up the phone and, despite the fact that it was 3:30 AM, dialed a number. Not only would someone with medical experience be useful, but he also understood the other point he thought might be on Jackson's mind. That would be the fact that Renata, for instance, knows what she looks like. The only problem was that General Armstrong had planned to keep Catalina so Buccaneer could return to Briggs. After a thought, Roy put the phone in speaker mode so Havoc could listen: this would be fun.

A surprisingly alert voice answered the phone: "Armstrong."

"Good morning, General. Lovely day, isn't it? Oh, no, I hope I didn't wake you." Havoc and Roy were attempting to suppress laughter while Jackson calmly observed.

"Mustang. I will fucking kill you. I already have to come out there because you lost a General, and now you call me at this hour? What the hell do you want?" At this, Roy heard Jackson chuckle to his right.

"I need Catalina."

"Absolutely not."

Using his sexiest lady-killer voice, Roy responded, "Oh, come on. I'll make it worth your while."

"There's nothing you have that I want. Ever. Now, if you don't mind, I'll just…"

He never heard the rest of that sentence because Jackson leaned in toward the phone and interrupted Armstrong before she could hang up, saying, "Hey, Olivier, how are ya?"

"Is that Liz?" The voice was surprised, but pleased.

"Yeah, it's me." Jackson nodded her head along with her response, despite that fact that Armstrong was not there to see it.

"Aside from my recent conversation with that idiot, I'm wonderful. You better not have gone over to the dark side."

Laughing, she replied, "No. I've just been put on the _idiot's_ team searching for Grumman. We gotta leave the country, and we really need Becca."

Armstrong waited barely a beat to say, "Ok, if you say so." The smile in her voice was so evident they could have been using a video phone.

Roy stared at the phone in shock, throwing his hands up in a 'what the hell?' gesture. _Armstrong_ is on friendly terms with someone? Presumably she, Catalina, and Jackson would have met at any number of military functions seeing as Armstrong and Grumman would move in the same circles. That could be the only explanation. Once again, Jackson has surprised him.

"Well, I have to give you something in return. It's only fair. Hmm…What's the one thing you'd like to do to Colonel Mustang if you had the chance?"

Mustang's swagger suddenly returned in full, and he was imagining all the hot, and probably kinky, things Armstrong would want to do with him. He looked at Havoc with his best confident smirk plastered on his face, which immediately transitioned into a deep frown when Armstrong answered the question.

"To punch the idiot in that face he's so proud of." Roy's expression had now been upgraded to 'what the fuck?'

"I'll even remove his fancy gloves for you," Jackson said with a grin, leaning forward with both hands on the desktop. Mustang attempted to protest but Jackson glared at him and he stayed silent. Havoc was entirely too busy with his hysterical laughter to say anything at all.

"It's a deal. And after I punch him, you and Becca are taking me out before I return to Briggs."

"And _that_ is a date. Don't worry, I'll shoot the phone before I let him call you again."

"Just shoot him, too," Armstrong snorted. "It wouldn't be the worst thing." Both women laughed appreciatively.

When she got her breath again, Jackson told her, "Maybe after he finds the General."

"That's fair." A click was heard, and the call was over.

Roy looked at the brunette, half-angry and half-amused; the latter emotion managed to irritate him further. "Uh…what the hell was that Jackson?!"

"You weren't getting anywhere, sir. And I got us Catalina. I would have offered to let her punch me in exchange, if it meant we find Grumman."

"So why is Armstrong punching me?" Roy was becoming increasingly frustrated by the smile on Jackson's face. _What did she have against him?_ Oh, right. It was quite possible, correction: likely, that the Lieutenant knew everything that happened between him and Hawkeye. That could be at least one reason Jackson would not mind seeing him receive a fist in the face.

"Because _me_ she likes. Clearly, she thinks you're an idiot," Jackson replied, pointing at Mustang to punctuate the last portion of her sentence.

"Armstrong didn't even ask for anything in return! She said, 'ok.' Why did you offer her anything at all?" he asked incredulously.

"I had to give her something; she's doing us a favor. She thought there wasn't anything she wanted from you. I merely helped her to think outside the box. And anyway, isn't it more fun this way, Havoc?"

Havoc nodded his agreement and Roy, irritably waving his hand toward the door, said, "Ok that's enough for now. Everybody out…go home. We'll resume this discussion tomorrow."

With a smirk, Jackson picked up her effects and left the office. Havoc, who did the same, paused long enough to tell Mustang, "Aren't you so happy that you're capable of _talking_ to her now, Boss? I know I am. She's not afraid to give you shit." After this dig, Roy saw him open the door to leave and then turn to face him again, with an even bigger grin on his face. "I can't wait to tell the guys. There's gonna be so many pictures of this, Boss." With that, he exited the office, leaving Roy to this planning, and his thoughts.

He could not believe what just happened. However, Jackson had a point: if it helped them find General Grumman, he could handle a punch to the face. Still, rather than having her figured out, Jackson kept surprising him, maintaining her enigma status. Secret investigations into terrorist organizations, practically having a forger on speed dial, and the fact that working with her in the bar felt so _natural_. It appeared that she harbored some anger on behalf of her cousin, yet she was still capable of working effectively with him and, he was fairly sure, had even flirted with him a little. _Real_ flirting, at the bar, on their fake date; unless he was imagining it or she was just that good. Combine that with all her similarities to Riza (shooting style, that laugh he heard tonight, even the way she took her coffee), and the effect was unnerving. Roy looked at the map in front of him and, taking a sip of his now unpleasantly cold coffee, tried to return his musings to task.

* * *

For most of her trip home, Elizabeth had a pleased grin on her face: when she dropped a note off for the forger, while stopping at the drug store to pick up a few things (among them the necessities to color her hair), and even when the sky began to glow announcing the day's arrival. _That's for using me, asshole_. If she were being entirely honest, she would rather punch him herself. But, this works.

Elizabeth was aware that it was likely not the tack she should have taken with a superior officer. However, it was one of the few things in her life that had been impossible to refuse, and it was solely due to her history with him. She'd been doing perfectly fine until he came along again.

Prevailing wisdom said that people should not hold a grudge: _But, damn. Sometimes it's difficult not to._ No, she was an adult, and was not maintaining _much_ bitterness. She'd played a part too, and was mature enough to admit that. Still, it did not make the prospect of General Armstrong punching him in the face any less sweet.

Walking by a random storefront, Elizabeth's thoughts took a sadder turn after catching a glimpse of her grandfather's ring. She'd bought a relatively cheap chain and decided to wear it around her neck until it could be returned to him. It also reminded her of the Colonel's gesture and how much she truly appreciated being permitted to hold onto it personally. It was kind of him; perhaps he's not all bad. The ring could have ended up in some evidence locker indefinitely, after all.

Elizabeth could not help wondering where exactly her grandfather was, if he was alive and well, or if he had been injured in any way. The thing was, even while kept captive, he was in all probability more worried about her than his own plight: he was very paternal that way. This line of thinking bolstered her will. She _needed_ to find him as soon as possible and after her discussion with the Colonel and Lt. Havoc earlier it seemed they may be in need of some assistance.

They would need supplies, transportation, a safe house, etc. The list was daunting and without normal military aid in this situation, it would be problematic to meet all those demands. Even so, her grandfather had left her one additional option. _Hadn't he?_

When Elizabeth reached her apartment, she set her bag and various parcels on the counter and fished her grandfather's letter out of its hiding place. Looking at the clock and comprehending the early hour, she hesitated, wondering if this could wait. After a moment's pause, she waved off her worries thinking, _It can't hurt to just call._

After picking up the phone and dialing a number with an area code designated for Central City, it rang a few times, and then she heard:

"Hello?" The voice was that of a woman, somewhat gruff, and devoid of any evidence of recent sleep.

"Hello, could I please speak with Madame Christmas?" It was rare for Elizabeth to actually be nervous, but this was one of those instances. She did her best to control her voice and regain her composure.

"Who's asking?" The growl in the voice increased somewhat, with mild suspicion coming through in the tone.

"Well…my name is Elizabeth and I could use her help." She let out a nervous chuckle, not entirely of her own volition, thinking about how strange her next words would sound. Clearing her throat, she added, "Um…Ol' Grummie sent me," and then awaited a response for what seemed like an hour but was really only a few seconds. Then, the voice burst through the phone, making her feel both relieved and anxious. It almost sounded like the woman was smiling.

"You must be Grumman's granddaughter. I'm Madame Christmas. What can I do for you?"

"Would it be possible for you to be in East City to meet with me this afternoon? Since you've probably seen the news, you know time is of the essence."

"Of course. Where do I meet you?"

"I'll pick you up at the train station. Just let me know when you'll be getting in. And thank you."

"I'll be there at 1 PM."

Elizabeth heard a click at the other end and, instead of hanging up the phone, she pushed the button to bring up a dial tone and dialed one more number. She was hoping he would still be at the office because otherwise she would have no means of contacting him. After a couple rings, a tired voice answered:

"Mustang."

"Colonel?"

"Yes…Jackson? Do you sleep?"

"Yes, sir. I could ask you the same thing. I have a meeting for us this afternoon with someone who may be able to help us."

"Who? The counterfeiter?"

"No response from him yet, it's too early. I'll check again in a couple hours. No, this is a woman named Madame Christmas. The General left me her name and told me to contact her should I need anything. And, well, we really need quite a bit."

"You're right there. We can trust this person?" Elizabeth noticed barely any hesitation from Mustang on hearing his aunt's name, and that only because she knew to listen for it.

"I believe so. Grandfather would not have given me her name if he did not consider her trustworthy." Elizabeth held back a chuckle inspired by the situation: she was talking to him about his aunt, who he was pretending not to know. It really was unfortunate that she could not tell him she already knew about Chris Mustang. This would be so much easier.

"Ok. It's worth a shot. But we pull the plug if I feel it necessary."

"Of course, sir. Meet us at 1:30 PM at my apartment." She gave him the address and without so much as an 'Ok,' the call was disconnected. Elizabeth decided to try to sleep for a couple hours: rest was imperative to make sure she was at the top of her game. She could not give any indication of her knowledge of the connection between Madame Christmas and Colonel Mustang. Because only Riza knew that, and she would not tell.

* * *

 **AN:** Hello again! I hope you enjoy the chapter and thank you for reading!


	12. Three Little Liars

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **Three Little Liars**

The next afternoon, as Elizabeth waited for Madame Christmas' train to pull into the station, she was incredibly grateful that the meeting would take place at her apartment. After their late night the prior evening, her normal lone cup of coffee was simply not adequate. And, unluckily, this day had the potential to be just as long as the previous one. Following their appointment with Madame Christmas, they were going to see the forger, and then they would return to Eastern Command once again to continue planning with Havoc.

In the distance, the steam from the locomotive was visible and Elizabeth could now see the engine through the afternoon haze. The heat was becoming unbearable and she was looking forward to escaping it soon since the breeze had disappeared. Fortunately, a sleeveless shirt had at least saved her from death-by-heatstroke. As the train closed the distance, Elizabeth moved to position herself in the agreed upon location so Christmas would know it was her. When passengers began to disembark, she searched the crowd, having a vague idea of what Christmas looked like from a description given her by Mustang years ago.

Elizabeth saw Madame Christmas exit the train and look in her direction. They made eye contact, and Christmas walked toward her, a bag in her left hand. When they were facing each other, Elizabeth offered her hand to the other woman and formally introduced herself, saying, "Good afternoon, Madame Christmas, I'm Elizabeth."

Christmas took her hand and, shaking it, replied, "Good afternoon, Elizabeth. A pleasure to finally meet Grumman's granddaughter."

Elizabeth gave her a smile in response, motioned for the visitor to follow her and they walked to her car. Once they were on their way, Madame Christmas spoke again:

"So, what can I help you with?"

"Quite a bit, actually. But, I have a friend that will be joining us and I'd like to wait until we are all present before we get into any specifics." Elizabeth glanced in Christmas' direction, who nodded and said, "Fine with me."

For the remainder of the short drive the two women chatted innocently about a variety of topics: the weather, a man walking down the street, the insane heat, Grumman. When they arrived at the apartment, they exited the vehicle, and walked up to the door, which Elizabeth unlocked and held open for her guest. Once in the apartment, she led Christmas into the kitchen so she could prepare the much needed coffee. After Christmas had seated herself at the table, Elizabeth asked her:

"Would you like anything to eat or drink? I'm making coffee but I also have water, juice, or tea. Or whiskey, if that's what you'd prefer." Elizabeth did not particularly care to have someone she barely knew in her home, but this was better than meeting in some public place, where anyone could see them all together. She had not even had the time to do her customary research on Madame Christmas. Elizabeth was really banking on her grandfather's trust of this woman, and the fact that she was the Colonel's aunt.

"Coffee is fine, thanks." Madame Christmas was casually observing her surroundings.

Elizabeth had just started the coffee when there was a knock at the door. _Game time_. She walked to the door, allowed herself a moment to take a breath, and then opened it. Sure enough, the Colonel was on the other side, hands in his pockets, and, _Oh hell, he looks good_.

"Jackson," he said by way of greeting.

"Sir," she greeted him with a nod. "Please come in." They had agreed to keep the military formalities to a minimum to draw less attention. Elizabeth opened the door further to allow him entry and, when he had passed, closed it, taking a split second to bite her lip, close her eyes, and shake her head. _Shit. Get it together_. Just because he was handsome, and doing that really sexy thing where he wore a button-down and rolled up the sleeves to just under the elbow, did not mean Elizabeth could lose it. _You can do this._ Turning around, she gave him a closed-lip smile and beckoned for him to follow her into the kitchen.

Elizabeth poured everyone coffee and made introductions then turned back to the kitchen for a moment to return the coffee pot to its place. She allowed herself a slight grin of amusement as Mustang shook hands with his foster-mother while pretending to meet her.

"So, Madame…Christmas, is it? How long have you known General Grumman?" Mustang began, giving no indication that he knew her, let alone had been raised by the woman.

"Oh, I've known Grumman for around twenty years," Christmas coolly replied, looking from Elizabeth to Mustang.

"And what was the nature of your relationship?" Mustang asked. Elizabeth thought she saw a flicker of actual curiosity when he posed the question. _He didn't know?_ Interesting.

"It's more a friendship. We've helped each other out with a variety of things over the years," she responded.

"Such as?" Mustang queried.

"I believe it would be better to avoid too many specifics. Don't you?"

"Madame," Elizabeth interjected. "I'll be blunt. My grandfather left me your name should I need anything, but he's never even mentioned you before."

"Look, I get it," Christmas replied, being direct in return. "Grumman's disappeared, and you need my help, but you're not sure I can be trusted."

"A little reassurance would go a long way, Madame," Elizabeth responded, nodding.

"Suffice it to say, I knew your grandfather well enough to attend your cousin's funeral." Madame Christmas watched her.

Elizabeth thought she saw a little color drain from Mustang's face at the mention of Riza's funeral, but he quickly regained his composure. Permitting a feigned expression of realization to grace her features, she said, "I thought you looked familiar. You were directly across from me, on the other side of the coffin." She conveniently left out that Christmas had been standing next to Mustang. Elizabeth figured they were hoping that she would not make that connection. She had to admit, it was a clever ploy to explain Christmas' presence at the funeral.

"And if that's not enough," Christmas continued, looking straight at Elizabeth one more. "About a year ago, you participated in an assignment for Grumman involving a Messinian drug dealer. You needed water transportation, which I provided."

"If that is the case, give details, please," Elizabeth replied.

"The boat was called _The Terror_ , and the captain's name was Manfred. He had a toothless grin, a tattoo on his forehead, and always had a toothpick in his lips."

"At the end of the night, after we apprehended the target, what did I have to do?"

"Give Manfred package," Christmas responded. "It contained a necklace I procured for the man which acted as part of his payment."

Elizabeth considered Madame Christmas for a few seconds longer and then said to Mustang, "Sir, would you come with me, please?"

She led him down the hallway to a room nearby and then shut the door. A moment passed before, looking around, Elizabeth realized that they were in her bedroom. _That doesn't mean a thing_ , she thought. Shaking her head to rid it of invading thoughts, she opened her mouth to speak since Mustang was giving her an eyebrow-raised, expectant look.

"I believe we can trust her, sir. All the details she gave were correct. The General has clearly had her assistance in similar situations."

Nodding, he replied, "I agree. We should still limit the particulars of our own mission, but yes. I think she can help." Mustang's eyes began to wander as he realized which room they were in. Rolling her eyes, and before his smirk could develop completely, she ushered him out and back into the kitchen.

Together, Elizabeth and Mustang detailed their needs to Madame Christmas while giving as few specifics on the mission as possible. Mainly, they needed a safe house in Aerugo, help obtaining some equipment (and then getting said equipment into Aerugo), and transportation from Xing to their destination. Fortuitously, it seemed that Madame Christmas would be able to assist them on all counts: it turned out she knew many, many people.

When she was not speaking, Elizabeth observed her interlocutors: Aunt and nephew were _good_ at this. She had only noticed some of their non-verbal cues because she knew to look for them. Three exceptional liars sitting at one little table. _Maybe we should band together with the goal of world domination. Nah, there are enough evil-doers in the world._

Throughout the entire conversation, Elizabeth was remarkably careful. She made sure not to comment on anything she should not know, and kept her own facial features under control. When the end of the meeting came, Elizabeth was quite confident that she had not given anything away. They agreed to stay in contact with Madame Christmas, who anticipated having everything set up in a day or two: everyone was aware that speed was essential.

The three of them piled into Elizabeth's car since she had to drive Christmas back to the train station and their meeting with the forger was up next. Getting out of the car with her visitor, she thanked Christmas, who merely replied, "Just find him," and then walked toward the platform. _We will_ , Elizabeth thought, and turned to make her way back to the car.

* * *

Roy waited in Jackson's vehicle while she played host and walked his aunt to the station. Overall, he thought the encounter went well and was fairly certain that Jackson had no inkling of his connection to Madame Christmas. It was quite interesting that his aunt had been in touch with General Grumman: he would have to ask her more about that sometime.

Looking to his right, Roy saw Jackson approaching the car: the sun shone, her hair waved lightly in the breeze that had returned, and she smiled in response to a man that said something to her in passing. _She really has a lovely smile._ At that moment, Jackson caught him looking at her so he nodded and gave a wry smile, as if he was just waiting. When she was in the driver's seat once more he asked:

"So, Lieutenant, where to?"

Putting the car in gear, she replied, "You know that Drachman restaurant a few blocks from here?" Jackson quickly glanced at him so Roy merely bobbed his head once in response. "Well, there. Which is good, cuz I'm starving…And, Colonel?"

"Yeah?" Roy was hoping there would be no more big surprises.

"Nick's a little…paranoid. So, no titles or surnames: first names only. It makes him more comfortable." Jackson's eyes were focused on the road ahead.

 _Just how paranoid?_ Roy wondered. "Ok. Why are we meeting in public for this one? It sounded like you were pretty familiar with this guy."

"Because he knows I'm bringing someone so he didn't want to meet at his apartment. And I'm not taking him to mine." Jackson's response came as she turned down a side street to find a parking spot.

"His apartment? You _actually_ trust this guy that much?" Roy was a bit surprised. He figured Jackson would have kept Nick at arm's length, much like she did with Bennie.

"Eh, it's more a mutual, but limited, trust. He helped us out with…a mission a few years ago." With those words, they'd parked and Jackson exited the vehicle, essentially cutting off any response or follow-up question Roy might have had. Apparently, this was something she would rather he did not pursue: fair enough, for now.

They entered the restaurant and Jackson suddenly put her hand in the crook of his arm, sauntering up to the head waiter. She asked to be seated at a table on the second floor balcony of the restaurant, wanting to avoid any observers to their meeting.

"I'm sorry, Miss, the second floor is not yet open to patrons today. Perhaps a table over here," the man replied, gesturing toward the room behind him, a perfunctory grin on his face.

Giving Roy a smile and squeezing his arm, Jackson responded in her best 'I usually get what I want' voice, "But, it's my boyfriend's birthday, and he would just _love_ to see the view. Right, babe?"

Roy, seeing the expectant look Jackson gave him, replied in the affirmative, saying, "Of course I would." Putting his arm around her waist, he added, "But the most important thing is that we're together."

"I know. I just want your birthday to be _special_ ," Jackson said, smiling coquettishly.

Roy grinned in return and reached his hand out to shake the waiter's hand, slipping him a little money in the process. Then, he told him, "Just seat us wherever's best," while giving the man a look that plainly said, 'Please, just give the lady what she wants. Help a guy out.'

The waiter grabbed a couple menus and led them upstairs to the requested table, slightly happier about the situation now that his palm had been sufficiently greased. They were seated at a small, round table near the railing, selecting chairs next to each other. To perpetuate the ruse begun by Jackson to get a secluded table, Roy rested his arm on the back of her chair, her back grazing his arm as she positioned herself to talk to him. Ordering beverages and making harmless small talk, they waited for Nick to arrive. Approximately ten minutes later, a tall and thin man with sandy brown hair and glasses approached their table, having snuck in the back of the restaurant.

Jackson looked up at him and said, "Hey, Nick. I ordered you a water." Pointing to Roy she added, "This is Roy." The two men shook hands and Nick sat down across from Jackson, while both the newcomer and Mustang critically observed each other.

Then, as if satisfied by what he saw, Nick turned to Jackson and began, "So, Liz, seen any good shows lately?" (a.k.a. Do you have work for me?)

Taking a sip of her water, she shook her head and replied, "No, but Roy and I have several coming up. Perhaps you'd like to go with us?" (Not just me, _we_ need a few things.)

"Is it that same old one you always go to? What's it called? _The Joker and the Thief_?" (Do you need the usual?)

"Two of them are, yes," she told him, displaying a sheepish smile. "But we also have five others you might be interested in." (Yes, for both myself and Roy. But also for five other people.) Roy saw Nick look at Jackson with a surprised gaze. At this point, they paused the conversation since a waiter approached them to take their lunch order. Once they'd all ordered, their talk resumed.

"Seven in total, huh?" Nick responded. "Geeze, you're pretty busy. I think I may be able to squeeze something into my schedule. You have the playbill for each one?" (Wow, seven? I could probably manage that. You'll have everything I need?)

"Oh, of course. When would you be able to go? The first show is in a couple days." (Naturally. When could you have them done? We _really_ need them in a couple days.)

Once again, a flash of surprise appeared on Nick's face. Roy assumed that this was one of the more challenging orders he ever had from Jackson. "Hmm, I could move some engagements around, but I may need a little help with a couple things." (A couple days? That's pushing it. I can do it, but it'll cost extra.)

Jackson gave him a smile and said, "Whatever you need." She then looked at Roy with a questioning glance, as if asking, 'So, what do you think?' He looked from Jackson, to Nick, and then back to her. Roy was skilled at reading people, and Nick seemed reliable. Not only that, but he and Jackson clearly had a system that had been in practice for a while. If she trusted this guy enough to bring him business on multiple occasions, that was a good sign. Roy nodded his approval, deciding that he would get Nick's last name from Jackson and look into him, just to be cautious.

Jackson turned back to Nick and said, "Wonderful. We can't wait. I'll get those playbills to you later today." By then, the waiter was approaching with their food so the table fell silent. The server handed Nick a to-go bag, and set Roy's and Jackson's plates on the table top. Nick stood, shook hands once more with Mustang, waved a goodbye to Jackson telling her, "Just bring them by my place," and was gone.

Roy and Jackson were left to dine and did so, for the most part, with little awkwardness. When the bill arrived, Jackson was adamant about paying but was beat to the punch by Roy. She thanked him, albeit somewhat resignedly, and they walked out to the car in order to return to Eastern Command. There was much yet to accomplish.

A few hours later, Mustang, Havoc, and Jackson had a fairly complete plan for at least getting to Aerugo. Roy was still working on what precisely would happen after that. Only pending confirmations from Madame Christmas or complications with their identities would necessitate any changes. They had just called the other members of the team to come in to be made aware of their strategy.

They made sure to tell everyone to bring what Nick needed: a photo, and some basic information (first name, height, weight, eye color, hair color, age). It had been decided that their cover to get into Aerugo would be a group of college students that met up and were travelling together. Thus, each individual needed to select a topic in which they were knowledgeable that could pass as their major. Nick would provide them with IDs, passports, backgrounds, and even university transcripts.

When everyone arrived, Jackson collected all their information, and then the team gathered to discuss the plan. The first step was to reach Xing and, once there, they would rendezvous at a small, nondescript inn in the south of the country. From there, they would drive to the coast and travel to Aerugo via boat. Everyone needed to be prepared to leave as early as the next day: they would depart as soon as possible.

After the meeting ended, Jackson left to take the 'playbills' to Nick so he could begin work on their identities. The rest of the team exited the room, with Havoc leaving to continue flirting with Catalina. Roy took this opportunity to call his aunt and ask her about the forger Nick, whose last name he discovered was Williams. She gave her approval of the counterfeiter and shared in his surprise that Lt. Jackson was acquainted with him. At the end of the call, Christmas reassured him that she would call the next day with an update. _We're coming for you, General._

Upon hanging up the phone, Roy wished he could call Hughes. However, aware he'd only called his friend the day before, he knew Maes likely would not have found anything yet. Instead, he took out his wallet and removed the only photo he had of Riza. In fact, as far as he knew, it was the only one of her that existed at all. He'd found it earlier that day stuck in one of his alchemy books at home. It was black and white, and showed the two of them sitting in her backyard; he could not recall who took it. They were both smiling into the camera, and he remembered that she was leaning against him a little, and he had been itching to put his arm around her.

Returning the photo to his wallet, he turned his attention back to the map in front of him. He ran possibilities through his mind, dismissing some, saving others for consideration. Had he not been so distracted while looking at the picture, he may have seen a barely noticeable imperfection above her right eye; which could have easily been a small scar, or nothing at all.

* * *

 **AN:** Hello! I hope you enjoy the chapter. And thank you for reading!


	13. Final Orders

**Disclaimer** : I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **Final Orders**

The next day, Monday, passed relatively quickly and without incident. Team Mustang, including its two new members, had been relieved of its normal duties, so time was spent on any and all preparations for the impending departure. Midway through the day, the Colonel received a call from Madame Christmas giving him the green light for all they had discussed previously. She also gave him the information for a safe house she had located. One of her girls was already en route to the location to make any necessary arrangements, and to ensure any equipment they needed would be waiting for them.

With this information, and an address for their ultimate destination, he was able to fine tune at least some of the logistics of their travel plans. Portions of their trip would still have to be dependent upon what was available at a given location, but everyone felt relieved knowing they'd at least established a safe house. Additionally, toward the end of the day, Elizabeth heard from Nick that their identities and documents would definitely be completed by the next day. He would have to work through the night, but he was willing to do that for a repeat customer, and the extra money.

Monday evening, after leaving work, Elizabeth found herself walking up to the rear door of her grandfather's house. Taking out her key, she unlocked the door and let herself in, a sense of calm overtaking her as she did so. His house was one of the few places that had ever felt like a home to her and, in spite of his absence, it was still reassuring. Moving around the familiar corridors, stairwells, and rooms, she made sure everything was in order: nothing had been touched since she was last there.

Elizabeth entered his study and walked directly to the removable wall panel that had a hollow space behind it. Opening said space, she reached in and brought out a small box of grey metal with a lock. Using another key from her collection, she opened the box and pulled out several stacks of currency from various countries, sorting the ones she would take from others. In the end, Elizabeth kept all the Xingese, Aerugonian, and Messinian currency, as well as some from a couple other countries in which some of the men's false identities were based. They could easily convert currency once in Xing, but she certainly did not want to have to use Amestrian cash at all.

Returning everything she was not taking to its place, Elizabeth locked the case, positioned it back where she found it, and replaced the wall panel. Then, she walked out of the study and into what used to be her bedroom, which was still used on the occasion she stayed the night. At the end of her bed stood a trunk that stored various items; there was an old photo album, a few books, what little she took from the Hawkeye residence, and some things from the war.

After opening the trunk, Elizabeth began removing articles and placing them on the floor around her. When she found the object of her search, she closed her hand around it, squeezed her eyes shut, and attempted to ignore all the memories of Ishval suddenly vying for attention. Part of their travel plans involved traipsing through the desert to reach Xing before meeting at an inn further south. Because of Ishval and her part in it, Elizabeth rather despised the desert and knew she would need her 'lucky' bandana if she had to go walking through that great, arid desolation between Amestris and Xing. It had always seemed rather odd to her that people not normally superstitious become so after defying death on a daily basis for an extended period of time. Whatever the reason, she would feel naked in the desert without that stupid piece of cloth.

While placing objects back into the trunk, Elizabeth rather awkwardly picked up the photo album which caused a picture to fall out, and the album itself to drop open on the floor. The book only had a few photos in it: one of her mother, _none_ of her father, several of her with her grandfather, and one of her with the real Elizabeth Jackson (who had indeed died of an illness).

Reaching for the picture that had fallen to the floor, she could not figure out what it could be. Upon flipping it over, she was surprised to see the one and only photo of her and Mustang. Well, that was not entirely true. She _had_ given him a copy before he left, but had also kept one since it was uncertain when he would be able to return. Elizabeth smiled in spite of herself as she looked at the faces grinning up at her.

Unable to remember for the life of her who took the photo, she recalled being incredibly happy in that moment. They had been growing closer for a while, and she was leaning against him, her head nearly touching his cheek, as they sat on the lawn behind the house. The arm he had behind her had kept inching nearer her back, as if he wanted to wrap it around her but was too nervous. Though the image was in black and white, Elizabeth could tell that the sun was shining, and the leafy trees in the background meant it was probably summer.

Feeling tears start to well up in her eyes, she blinked them away, trying to ignore the mild ache in her chest. She put the photo in an empty slot of the album, and then took the small book into her grandfather's study. After again removing the wall panel, she took out a different box, unlocked it, and placed the album inside with some of her grandfather's belongings.

Elizabeth knew that, for security's sake, she should probably burn the photo of her and Mustang, as well as the one depicting her and the real Elizabeth. However, she could not bring herself to do that, and the pictures should be better hidden than merely sitting in her trunk. On second thought, she better take them home: the location of her own stash was infinitely more secure than a hole in the wall. Elizabeth put everything else away, grabbed the few items she came for, and left, locking the door behind her.

On Tuesday morning, Elizabeth woke even earlier than usual in order to have ample time to stop by Nick's and pick up the identity packages. After arriving at his apartment, she walked up to the door, knocked, and waited so long that concern began to creep into her thoughts. Finally, the shuffling of footsteps could be heard on the other side of the door, and an extremely sleepy Nick answered, looking pleased with himself. He beckoned for her to follow him inside, too tired for a true greeting, and began packing up all the IDs and documents he had created. It appeared to Elizabeth that he must have fallen asleep right at his desk sometime during the night.

When he finished, he handed her a package and she handed him an envelope full of money in return, saying, "Thank you, Nick. Seriously. You are phenomenal." He merely gave a lazy smile, waving her out the door and, after it closed, Elizabeth heard what sounded suspiciously like a person collapsing onto a couch. _Sleep it off, Nick. You've definitely earned it._

She headed directly for Eastern Command and, when she arrived, Elizabeth walked to Mustang's offices and entered. The outer office was deserted; apparently, no one else had come in yet. However, a light shone from beneath the door to Mustang's own office. She knocked, and heard a quiet, "Come in," from the other side. After entering, Elizabeth saw the Colonel rise from his desk. The bags under his eyes were evidence of his exhaustion, and she wondered if her knock had awoken him.

Saluting, Elizabeth greeted him with, "Good morning, sir," and then walked forward to set the package she carried on his desk.

He picked up the bundle, and replied, "Good morning, Lieutenant. The IDs, I presume?" His rich baritone was quiet, and somewhat hoarse.

"Yes, sir." Elizabeth watched him open the small parcel and begin sifting through what he found inside. She looked at him, then around his office, and then back at him, unsure if she should stay or go. Having just turned around to leave, his voice stopped her.

"These are very skillfully done." Mustang sounded almost surprised, as though he believed Nick was capable, but maybe not quite that talented.

"Yes, they are. He's quite good. I've never had an issue crossing borders with his IDs." She gave a small smile, remembering the times that Nick's thorough work had saved her ass.

"That's good news for us."

* * *

Roy and Jackson waited in silence until the sounds of voices and footsteps came through the door: the rest of the team had arrived. Everyone entered and formed a semi-circle around Mustang's desk in order to hear once more their role in the plan. Havoc passed out train tickets while Jackson passed out IDs, passports, and other documents. Roy began with, "We leave for Youswell in the morning, as you can see on your ticket. We will be traveling in two groups of two and one group of three. Lieutenant Jackson?"

"Yes, sir." Addressing the other individuals present, she told them, "The groups are Catalina and myself, Fuery and the Colonel, and finally Havoc, Breda, and Falman." The only reaction came from Fuery, who looked a little nervous at the prospect of travelling alone with the Colonel.

Mustang picked up where Jackson left off: "We will have slightly staggered departures from Youswell, and our routes will be in different directions. Each group has a landmark on their route and, when you reach it, you head due east from that point. Catalina and Jackson, you will head northeast to the ruins of Xerxes, while Fuery and I will travel marginally southeast until we reach a small oasis. Havoc, Breda, and Falman, you will hike southeastward until you come to the ruins of an old outpost at these coordinates," Roy pointed at the location on the map. "It is important that we stay under the radar. Our nation does not have great relations with anyone, really, so we are sneaking into Xing, leaving all trace of Amestris behind. Once we disembark tomorrow morning, we will abandon all titles and military formalities."

Mustang looked around the room, waiting for any questions. When no one had any, he looked at Jackson, who started to speak again: "For your new identities, your first names have remained the same. The last names, however, are different and your backstories are unique: learn them. You have been given a driver's license, passport, student id card for your university, and a copy of your new transcript. Our cover will be that of a group of college students that met in Xing and decided to travel together. These identities are very thorough: someone can look for these names in the records of these universities and they will find us."

After a moment she added, "Also, I have cash for you." While Jackson handed out a variety of currency, she said, "There are some Xingese funds for each group, as well as money from your 'home' country you can exchange when you arrive. Make sure you don't have _any_ Amestrian currency on you when we leave Youswell tomorrow."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Roy resumed, wondering where all that money had come from. "Follow the travel information on your ticket. We will meet up tomorrow, in Youswell, at the inn. There, you will receive the information for the rendezvous in Xing. Take only what you need to get across the desert: we will purchase anything else once we reunite on the other side of the border. Dismissed."

Roy watched as his team filed out of his office, laughing and joking together on the eve of an important mission. Suddenly, he thought about how something like this could really make or break his entire career. No sense thinking like that now, though. When he saw that Jackson had nearly walked through the door, he spoke up, saying, "Lieutenant Jackson, please wait a moment."

She turned around, faced him, and took a few steps back towards his desk. Roy waited until they were the only two individuals left in the room before he said anything else. "Jackson, when we spoke about currency, I didn't know you were going to dip into a personal stash for the purposes of the mission." He moved his gaze to meet hers, awaiting her reply.

Jackson had a small smile on her face, and said, "Well, we needed funds right? And what we're getting from Madame Christmas won't be available until we're in Xing. So, I improvised." She paused a second and then continued, almost as an afterthought: "Anyway, that was the General's stash. I have yet to dip into mine."

"You took the General's stockpile?" Roy chuckled.

Another slight grin came from Jackson, this time accompanied by a nod. "Anything to find him, sir. Anything at all."

She made to leave but turned back around at the door, when Roy sat back down at his desk. "Sir?" Mustang looked up from what he was just about to work on with a quizzical expression. "Go home. You look exhausted. And you need to rest if you're going to find my grandfather."

Roy's response was to run a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile: he was aware that he was running himself ragged. He had a tendency to do that when he was completely focused on an objective, and this one involved bringing someone home. Jackson was right, he should go home, but there was one more thing he absolutely had to do, so he told her, "I'll be right behind you, Lieutenant."

As she was closing the door, he heard her say, "Why don't I believe that, sir?" This drew another chuckle from Roy, who had the thought that he and Jackson might actually have quite a bit in common when it came to determination and persistence. He really had decided to go home, and of course take the map and other things with him. But first, he picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number in Central command.

After a few rings, a voice came on the line, "Hughes."

"Hey, Hughes, it's Roy." He really was pretty fatigued and hoping he could keep this call under forty-five minutes.

"Hey, buddy!" Hughes' was as frustratingly cheerful as ever. "You sound like you feel like shit. This General Grumman case must be killing you." And he was apparently in a brutally honest mood.

"Thanks, Maes. Hey…" Roy released a small sigh, smiling, as Maes' voice cut through his own.

"So! Did you get that picture of me and Gracia I sent you? Doesn't she just look _amazing_?! I'm tellin' you, man, pre-pregnancy glow. It's a thing."

"Yes, I did. Yes, she does. And, it's not a thing, Maes. The 'glow' is when women are actually pregnant."

"Well, agree to disagree. But she _is_ the most beautiful lady _ever_! And our babies will be so freakin' cute, Roy."

"I believe it, buddy." Though, naturally, a different woman popped into Roy's mind when he heard the phrase 'most beautiful lady.' Before Hughes had the opportunity to jump right in on another Gracia-related tangent, Roy asked: "So, have you had a chance to look into that thing I asked you about?"

Suddenly serious, his friend said, "Only a little. And I haven't found anything out of the ordinary yet. I'll keep looking."

"Thanks, Maes. I appreciate it. I just called to check in, and let you know I'm going out of town for a little while. I can't tell you exactly where, but I'll contact you when I can."

"Good luck, Roy."

"Thanks. Sorry, but I need to go."

"No problem. See ya…And be careful."

"You too. Bye, Hughes." With those words, the call ended, and Roy started gathering what he needed from his office. He took the remainder of the day to rest, pack, and prepare for his upcoming trip. It struck him that he had not been in East City for long, and already he was leaving with no idea when exactly he would return. _Just hang on, General._

* * *

 **AN:** Hello! Thanks to all who have been reading, reviewing, following, or favoriting. The support is wonderful! Just a quick FYI, it's looking like Sundays will become update day. Have a good one everybody!

P.S. I hope this one is not too boring. It has some explanation/set-up that I felt needed to happen. We'll be on our way in the next chapter!


	14. And They're Off

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **And They're Off**

Two days later, Roy stood watching the sunrise in the middle of the desert. He had slept fitfully yet, fortunately, dreamlessly. He woke Kain so that they could get an early start and take advantage of the morning before peak temperatures were reached which would necessitate another resting period. They packed up their small tent and blankets and started off without eating breakfast: it was better to snack a little as they went to keep their strength up. They walked in silence for a while, and then:

"So, Kain," Roy began. "Do you like your specialty for our cover?"

"It's great! I'm a communications major, so at least I know what I'm talking about. And you sir…er…Roy?" Kain caught himself; he was still getting used to this whole first names thing.

"I'm a chemistry major," Roy replied. Then, with a little trademark swagger coming into his demeanor, he said, "And I'm flattered that everyone thinks I can pass for a college student."

"Um…aren't you a grad-student, though…in your cover?"

"It still counts! A grad-student is still a university student, after all."

"I think Vato's cover is in graduate studies too."

"Well, I'm not as old as _him_. But, yeah, his specialty is history. Specifically Xingese, but he knows so much that he could probably believably pull-off just about any subject."

"True." After a moment's thought Kain added, "And I think Heymans' is mathematics, right? He's definitely smart enough for that."

"Yes. And Jean is business management, since he has all that experience with his family's store."

"I forgot about that! And what about Becca and Liz? I never heard what theirs are."

"Ah…Becca is nursing, because of her medical knowledge. And Liz is foreign languages; she speaks at least two languages in addition to Amestrian."

"Oh, wow! You know, they're fun. I really…" Kain was there, and then suddenly he was no longer walking next to Roy, and a cry of pain was heard trailing off. When he looked down, Kain was rolling down a sand dune, already almost at the bottom. Roy carefully followed him down to make sure he was alright, and to help him back on his feet. As he neared, he saw that the younger man was clutching his right ankle, his face a scrunched expression of pain.

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._ "Kain?! Are you ok? You weren't bitten by anything were you?" They had recently passed a rock formation sporting all kinds of crevices that would be perfect for housing scorpions or spiders. Reaching Kain, he helped him sit up and tried to pry his hands away from his foot so he could take a look.

"I don't think so," Kain replied. "But my ankle hurts like hell." His voice was strained; he was clearly in a great deal of pain. Roy attempted to examine the ankle, and Kain flinched at any and all movement. Nothing appeared to be hanging at an odd angle, nor did he see any protruding bone, but that did not necessarily rule out a break or a fracture. Standing and walking up the side of a dune to get a better vantage point, Roy looked around, checking the position of the sun and the status of the weather. The sun was not quite at its peak, they still had a couple hours at least, and the skies looked mostly clear for much of the expanse surrounding them.

Walking slowing back down the dune, he said to Kain: "We need to try to get you up. Don't put any weight on your foot just yet." He stooped down so Kain could put an arm around his shoulders and use him as a crutch to stand; this only made the pain more intense. With Roy supporting most of his weight, Fuery attempted to stand extremely lightly on his injured limb, with disastrous results. He lost his balance, nearly dragging Roy to the ground.

"I…I can't do it. I'm sorry, sir…Roy. I'm such an idiot." Roy eased Kain back to a sitting position on the ground and walked a few paces, removing his hat and running a hand through his hair, trying to formulate a plan.

"It's ok, Kain. These things happen. We'll figure something out." There was no way he could finish the rest of this trip if he had to half-carry Fuery: they would never make it.

"I can wait here if you need to go for help or something," Kain said somewhat apprehensively.

"There's no way I'm going to leave you in the middle of the damn desert while I go for help. We travel together." Despite the attempt to rid themselves of anything military, Roy's words had the ring of a final order. Walking back up to the top of the dune, he took another look around, surveying the area and anything he could see. Very quietly, to himself, he muttered, "Shit." They were still too far away from the landmark on their route to reasonably make it there, and any wrong turn or injury in the desert could be a death sentence if not handled properly.

Turning around, he looked to the north: off in the distance, he could just make out the ruins of Xerxes. Catalina and Jackson should be there today at some point, at least for the hottest part of the day, which lasts a few hours. Fuery's best chance would be to get him to a medic, such as Catalina, to see what needed to be done. And, with a couple other people that could rotate through helping Kain, they had a much better shot of making it to Xing. The only other issue was that the desert can play tricks on you as far as distance is concerned. His calculations told him he should be able to do it, looking at the ruins made him wonder: they could be further away than he thought.

Returning to Kain at the bottom of the dune, Roy removed the tightly packaged tent from among the things he carried, dropping it on the ground. It was about the only thing he could get rid of in an attempt to help them move quickly. Looking at Fuery, he said, "Come on, let's go." He stooped down once more to allow Kain to put his arm around him for support, and helped him stand. When they reached the top of the dune, Roy pointed north, "Do you see the ruins in the distance?"

Fuery nodded, "Yeah." His voice was still tense and tinged with pain, Roy's plan was not going to be easy on the younger man.

"Liz and Becca should be getting there in the next few hours. We have to make it there before they leave, so we need to haul ass. I know I'm asking a lot, but it's the best shot we have to help you. If you really _need_ to rest, let me know. Let's go."

They set off, moving as quickly as they could with Roy supporting much of Fuery's weight. The sun rose higher, the day continued to grow hotter, and slowly, so very slowly, the ruins grew closer. At one point the wind picked up, blowing Roy's hat clean off his head. He paused, but it was flying away, and he had no chance of catching it. His exhaustion was increasing as well: he just kept his eye on the ancient buildings on the horizon and hoped they would make it.

* * *

 _Liz was back in her sniper's nest on top of an abandoned building in Ishval. Gunfire was everywhere, but she did not care. Screams and explosions rent the air, shrapnel rained down, and every now and then she heard Kimblee's maniacal laugh. Another explosion came from her right, this one much closer. They no longer startled her; they had become the soundtrack to her life._

 _Liz heard two more explosions, these so close that the floor beneath her vibrated. She strained her ears, listening, and heard the crack of gunfire nearby. Suddenly, the sense that something was very wrong saturated her entire being. She could not explain it, but her gut was almost never mistaken. Footsteps approached her from behind, slow and methodical. She felt the muzzle of a firearm being pressed firmly to the back of her skull. Picking up the pistol she always kept handy when in the nest, she quickly spun and…_

Elizabeth woke suddenly, her consciousness jumping from sleep as if she'd just been doused with ice water. She was sitting up, her unloaded pistol aimed at nothing, and she could already feel tension growing in her neck from restless sleep. Despite her whereabouts and the heat, she was drenched in a cold sweat. _I really hate the fucking desert._

Grabbing her bandana, she dabbed at the moisture on her face. The recurrence of her dreams is what she feared at the prospect of the crossing to Xing. Thus, she removed all ammo from her pistol before lying down, putting the empty firearm under her pillow where it would normally be, and had Rebecca hide the clip. Looking over at her friend, she was relieved to see her still asleep.

Now fully awake, Elizabeth frowned slightly: it sounded like the wind had picked up substantially since they arrived at Xerxes. They placed their tent in between a couple stone walls in the hopes of shielding themselves from the elements. She rose, deciding that it was perhaps a good idea to check on the weather since, in the desert, it can change quickly and violently.

Silently exiting the tent, she noticed it was near midday and the heat alone felt catastrophic. With the wind dancing among the ruins, she could immediately tell that something was brewing. Elizabeth climbed to the top of a tall pile of rocks nearby and saw a sand storm or a thunderstorm on the horizon. At this distance, it was difficult to tell which, and neither was particularly beneficial. Taking out her binoculars, she tried to see if she could tell which it was, but it was no use. She was just about to turn back toward the tent when movement in the foreground of her vision caught her eye.

Elizabeth moved the binoculars and adjusted the focus: she saw two figures approaching semi-quickly. One was limply noticeably, and the other was helping them along. They were both wearing khaki colored clothing, like her, and the only reason she'd seen them was the black splotch (presumably hair) on one figure's head. She attempted to improve the focus once more, and the best she could do was make out spiky black hair. Coming from the south? Elizabeth would bet that it was Roy and Kain, and apparently they'd had an eventful trip.

Quickly descending from her make-shift crow's nest, Elizabeth ran back to the tent, making no attempt at silence on her re-entry. She shook Rebecca awake, saying, "Becca! Where's my ammo?!"

"What's going on?" Rebecca voice was thick with sleep and she rubbed her eyes with her hands.

"Can you anchor the tent and get our stuff inside? We've got a storm coming. And two people are approaching from the south. I think it's Roy and Kain, but I'm not positive." While she said this, Elizabeth scrambled to grab her pistol, bandana, and goggles, to throw her long-sleeve shirt back on, and wrap the bandana around her head. "And Becca?" she said, making eye contact with her. "One of them is injured."

Recognizing the emergent status of the situation, Rebecca awoke entirely, taking her friend's magazine from its hiding place. "Ok. You sure you want me to stay?"

"Yeah, secure our stuff. I'll bring them here if they're friendly." With an only partially-amused smirk she added, "I could use a brisk jog anyway. I'm a little wired."

"Ishval dreams?" Rebecca set about prepping her medical bag.

"Yeah. I'll be back." With that, Elizabeth sprinted from the tent to go meet their visitors, gun in hand. Reaching the remnants of the outer wall that surrounded the city, she paused to look for the two individuals. She began to cautiously run in their direction after catching sight of them again, making sure to watch her foot placement and keep her firearm in front of her. As she got closer, Elizabeth slowed: both their heads were angled down, looking where they were walking, and she still had not seen their faces. Finally she spoke: "Ok, guys, hands up."

One person raised a right hand, the other a left, and both finally looked up at her. Elizabeth sighed in relief: it was Roy and Kain. Holstering her weapon, she closed the distance between them at a run.

"Hey, Liz. We are glad to see you," Fuery greeted her. "I…" He did not get to finish his sentence because Elizabeth interrupted him, holding up a hand to stop him.

"We can exchange greetings when we get back. Looks like a sand storm coming behind you." Walking behind Fuery, she removed his backpack and slung it on her shoulders. Looking up at Mustang, she said, "Switch sides with me. You look like you've been walking like that for a while." He merely nodded, too tired to speak if it was not necessary. Taking Fuery's right arm, she wrapped it around her shoulders, putting her left arm around his back. Mustang's own right arm ended up below hers. Sharing a look, they started moving in sync, almost carrying Fuery.

Picking their way through mounds of sand, they finally made it to the ruins, and travel from there to the tent was marginally easier. The wind was whipping around them, shifting their clothing, and pushing and pulling in various directions. When they reached the tent, Rebecca helped them ease Fuery inside, and then the rest followed. Roy collapsed on the opposite side of the tent, Elizabeth sat next to him after setting Kain's bag near the entrance, and Rebecca immediately set to work examining Fuery.

Grabbing her own water bladder, Elizabeth handed it to Mustang, telling him, "Here, drink. Becca put some electrolyte mix in it or something." He accepted it gratefully, nodding his appreciation, and slouched out of his own pack, which she moved out of the way. Elizabeth heard movement behind her and turned around. Fuery was frantically searching his bag and pockets for something, muttering indistinctly. Finally he said, "No! It's gone!"

"What is?" Rebecca asked, still trying to examine his leg, a process he was making incredibly difficult.

"The transmitter! I dropped it. Crap! I brought that for when we get to Aerugo."

Elizabeth looked at him and inquired, "How important is it, Kain?"

"Well, if we want the best surveillance I can set up, we need it. Otherwise, I will be somewhat limited, and I'm not sure I can get one there."

"What does it look like?" She shared a look with Rebecca, who shook her head wide-eyed, realizing that Elizabeth was contemplating going back out to retrieve the device.

"Small and black, various knobs and buttons, retractable antennae."

Elizabeth deliberated for a moment, deciding if it was worth the risk. _Anything to get Grumman back, right?_ Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement and, pushing Mustang back to the ground she told him, "Don't worry, I got it."

"No, I'll go," he persisted, voice hoarse.

She turned her gaze on him, astounded that he would go back out there considering his obvious, and extreme, exhaustion. "Don't be stupid, Roy. I mean, you're halfway dead. Anyway, the brunt of the storm's not here yet, and I may have an idea where he dropped it." _Ok, only that last part was a lie._ With absolutely no more ado, she was outside, goggles on, sand whipping around her face. Grasping her 'lucky' bandana tied around her neck, she pulled it up to cover her mouth and nose: inhaling sand can be incredibly dangerous.

Elizabeth ran back the way they came, searching the ever more obscured ground for the little black box. By the time she found it, she had reached the edge of the ruins and the thought crossed her mind, _Well, I may die, but at least I found the damn thing_. Standing up and grasping the transmitter tightly in her hand, she looked about. Visibility was decreasing rapidly, the wind was whistling in her ears, and the sun appeared to be nothing more than a fuzzy, yellow-brown blob.

Running again in what she was fairly certain (and hoping) was the right direction, she managed to make it back to the alleyway between old buildings where their tent was located. There, her ability to see dropped to practically zero, and she moved toward the tent with one hand on the wall to her left to guide her. After walking what she thought was 100 feet, Elizabeth still had not bumped up against anything at all, let alone a tent.

"Shit!" She shouted aloud, worried that she may not get out of this storm before the very worst arrived. Suddenly, Elizabeth felt something brush against her thigh. She stuck her right hand out, searching for the canvas of the tent, and a hand wrapped around her wrist. She was pulled down into the tent, landing on her side, both partially next to and on top of Mustang, while Rebecca closed everything back up. Elizabeth was dimly aware of the fact that her back was pressed up against his chest and that, because of how she landed, his arm was around her. At least she was flushed from her little run, so no one would notice if she blushed.

Whipping the bandana from her face, she coughed several times, sending even more sand everywhere. She removed the bandana covering her head as well and, tossing the transmitter rather forcefully to Fuery said, "Fucking desert."

"Don't mind her, Kain," Rebecca interjected. "I've noticed she gets a little cranky in places with lots of sand."

Elizabeth laughed at that, which led into another coughing fit. She felt something nudging her back and turned to find Mustang handing her the water. Smiling her thanks, she took a drink and moved to lay flat on her back, one hand by her side, the other hand absentmindedly playing with her grandfather's ring on the chain around her neck.

After a few minutes, Rebecca spoke again: "Hey, Liz. When you're done relaxing over there, can you do something for me?"

This elicited another chuckle from Elizabeth, who replied, "So sorry for slacking. Your wish is my command, your highness." She sat up and took a jar that Rebecca handed her.

"Now that is the kind of treatment I'm talking about," Rebecca grinned and handed her a small jar. "Roy lost his hat at some point and has some pretty decent sunburns on his face and neck. Pass this to him."

"What, I don't get special treatment like Kain?" Roy spoke up, acting miffed.

"You just do what the medic says," Elizabeth replied with a small grin. "Here, take this." He did and, turning back to Rebecca, she asked, "What else do you need me to do?"

"Come help me stabilize Kain's leg. The ankle isn't broken, but it's been twisted badly and should be wrapped to prevent further injury." Rebecca gestured toward where she wanted her friend to relocate. Removing her excessively sandy khaki over-shirt, she carefully moved toward Fuery.

Noticing he was asleep, she commented, "Wow, he's out already?"

"Yeah, I sorta dosed him with a strong anti-histamine so he would fall asleep. He just would _not_ stay still."

"Sneaky, sneaky. Ok, what do you want me to do?" At Rebecca's direction, who had lifted up Fuery's leg, Elizabeth slid her legs under his calf so it would rest on her lap: they did not want to use packs and risk damaging their food or other supplies. The medic set a couple blankets on top on the sniper's legs to further raise his foot, and then indicated that Elizabeth should hold his leg in place with her hands. "Well, this is unexpected," she commented. Then in a whisper, she nudged Rebecca with her elbow and mouthed, raising her eyebrows suggestively, "Wish it was Jean?"

"Oh, hush," Rebecca replied with a smile.

A "What?" was heard from across the tent. Mustang was apparently listening while treating his burns.

Looking briefly in his direction, Rebecca told him, "Oh, nothing. Liz was just asking me a question." The expression she shot in Elizabeth's direction was one pleading her to shut-up.

"You wouldn't be talking about my good friend Jean, would you, ladies?" Mustang responded with a knowing smile.

Rebecca's face reddened and Elizabeth burst into laughter, saying to her friend, "See, Becca, I told you that you two weren't as subtle as you thought. They're men, not _blind_."

The medic replied with a slight shove to Elizabeth's hands and told her, "Ok, you can move, smartass." Rebecca then took a couple small tablets from her bag and handed them to Mustang, indicating that he should take them.

Elizabeth lay back down, drinking some of her water and resting her eyes. A few minutes later, she half turned her head to add to the group at large, "I think we should definitely stay here for the night. It'll put us behind schedule, but we'll deal with it."

"I agree. Come on, let's go outside for a little while. It's cooled off some, and I won't be able to fall asleep right now anyway."

Rebecca was moving to leave the tent, but Elizabeth stopped her with a hand on her arm, ejecting the magazine from her firearm and removing the bullet from the chamber. "Here, first take this, and put it wherever you hide it, please." Then, noticing that Mustang had also fallen asleep, she asked quietly, "Hey, Becca? Did you dose Roy too?"

"I may have," Rebecca replied, giving Elizabeth a sheepish grin and a shrug. "He needed to shut-it and rest too."

They stepped outside together to give the men some time to sleep undisturbed. "Well," Elizabeth chuckled, as they walked a short distance from the tent. "Do you frequently go around giving people drugs to silence them?…Wait. You've never medicated me, have you?"

"You? No! I would _never_ dose you." They made sure not to stray too far from the tent in case one of their guests needed something, and only returned to grab some food and make sure Fuery and Mustang still slept. When the sun reached the western horizon, the sky began to darken, and the temperature started to drop. Elizabeth and Rebecca decided they should try to sleep as well. They crawled as quietly as they could back into the tent, the medic placing herself by her patient, with Elizabeth between Rebecca and Mustang.

As much as she wanted to maintain her righteous anger toward him, now that he was back in her life, she found it difficult. Thoughts buzzed in her head: Had she been wrong? Is it possible she misunderstood back then? It certainly seemed pretty clear at the time. But he _did_ volunteer to find her grandfather. _And_ , he let her on the team; he did not have to do that. Then there was Grumman's ring, the fact that he had walked who knows how far practically carrying one of his team members to safety, and that he quite possibly just saved her life by yanking her out of the storm. _Have an open mind, Liz._

* * *

 **AN:** Happy Sunday! This chapter is a bit longer. I hope you like it!


	15. Four's Company

**Disclaimer** : I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **Four's Company**

Roy only half-awoke, and briefly at that, when the two women came back into the tent to go to sleep. He felt himself being covered by a blanket, and saw Jackson settle down between himself and Catalina, ultimately facing him on her side. When he woke next, it was still mostly dark outside, but he felt pretty well rested. He reasoned that he must have slept at least 10 hours by that time. Stretching and opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was Jackson: he was now on his side as well, and somehow the distance between them had shrunk while they slept. The ring she was now wearing on a chain around her neck had fallen from beneath her black shirt and rested on the ground near one hand. He recalled her toying with it earlier after her battle with the sand storm: he recognized it as Grumman's ring that they found in the warehouse.

Abruptly, Jackson twitched, and then he noticed that her hands were clenched around portions of her blanket and that, in spite of the chill of a desert night, there were beads of sweat on her forehead. He slowly reached out his left hand, settling it on her upper arm to softly shake her awake. Suddenly, her own left hand shot up, clasping his forearm in a vice like grip. Her eyes flew open, locking onto his, and he got a mental flash of a similar face framed in blond hair and sunlight, smiling as she turned to face him, light-blue sheets twisting around their bodies. Then, he returned to reality, and recognized that these eyes were startled, with a touch of fear. Roy decided that he did not like seeing her afraid.

Just as quickly as she grabbed his arm, she released it, breathing in through her mouth and out through her nose to calm down. With a hastily whispered "Sorry," Jackson was in motion: removing the blanket, getting up, and pulling a flashlight from her pack along with a cloth she had stowed there. Picking up her pistol from its position beneath her pillow, she was outside in a matter of seconds, footsteps heading away from the tent.

A short time later, Roy rose and exited the tent, stretching and yawning. Hints of a sunrise could be seen and, though it was dim, the light was sufficient for him to see to walk. He actually had no idea where she was, so he slowly covered the area surrounding their small campsite. When he found her, Jackson was sitting cross-legged with her back up against a wall a few alleys away from the tent. As he approached her, he saw the various parts of her pistol splayed in front of her save one, which she was currently cleaning, eyes closed and head leaning on the wall.

Unexpectedly, she spoke, eyes still closed: "Morning. Feeling better?"

Roy sat down next to her, lacking a bit of grace in the motion due to the previous day's events, and responded, "Yeah, thanks. How'd you know it was me?"

Jackson glanced at him, exchanged the piece she was cleaning for another, and said, "Well, the footfalls were too heavy to be Becca's, and there was no limp." After an additional thought she added, "That, and you saw me earlier."

"Speaking of, are you ok?" he asked softly. "I'm…acquainted with the nightmare thing." They looked at each other and she watched him for a minute, but what she was thinking or evaluating, he did not know.

Finally, turning back to her task, she replied, "Yeah, I'm fine. Being back in the desert is the problem. It'll get better. It was nice of you to ask, though…And on that note: thank you for pulling me in from that sand storm yesterday." Jackson rotated her head in his direction and gave him a small, but sincere, smile.

"Any time. Thanks to you for coming to get us. We wouldn't have made it without your help."

"That's true," she smirked. "And you're welcome." He chuckled in response. Hearing more footsteps and another voice, both Roy and Jackson looked up.

"Sorry to break up this thanks-fest," Catalina greeted them. "But we should probably get going." As she got closer, she added to Liz, "Uh oh. You're cleaning your pistol ritualistically. What happened?"

"Eh, nothing major. Same as yesterday." Jackson had finished cleaning her weapon and began the task of reassembly.

The two women shared a look, and Catalina continued, voice still tinged with concern, "Oh…ok then. Well, I suppose we should get a move on."

They made their way back to the campsite, where Fuery was waiting. It did not take them long to pack up the meager belongings they were carrying through the desert. Distributing everything between them as evenly as possible, they set off due east from the Xerxes ruins.

* * *

The next day and a half was spent making as much progress as they could while still resting during the hottest and coldest portions of the day. Roy, Jackson, and Catalina rotated through helping Fuery two-at-a-time. His foot was improving, but it was still too difficult for him to put much weight on it and, thus, to move by himself. It was during their walk late on Saturday afternoon that they saw the first signs of Xing in the distance. They began to see plant life around them and were thrilled to see patches of green up ahead. Granted, they would likely arrive late to the rendezvous point, but they had made it to Xing.

Setting up the tent once more for shade, Catalina and Fuery entered so she could check his injury, while Roy walked on with Jackson to scout ahead. The group planned to actually cross into Xing under the cover of darkness as a precaution. And, though this location had been selected because it was isolated, it was important to make sure there were no patrols or other people around. The nearest town was a few miles away, where they would rent a room later and inquire into transportation.

As they walked, they spoke little and focused on the terrain surrounding them. Ahead, Roy could see a line of trees acting as a somewhat unofficial barrier between the desert and the rest of Xing. As for an actual obstacle, there was no fencing or other obstruction marking the country's boundary. Seeing an outcropping of rocks and brush up ahead, they concealed themselves behind it and waited there for some time, observing the tree-line ahead of them for any movement. Satisfied after not having seen anything, they quickly covered the distance between their hiding place and the trees.

Jackson pulled a gun from her back and Roy heard the click of the safety being disengaged. They paced slowly through the woods, listening for any movement near them and keeping their own noises to a minimum. Reaching a clearing bordered on one side by a small pond, they took a moment to splash water on their faces. So far, they had seen no signs of recent human activity in the area.

Drying off his face, Roy gestured toward the gun in Jackson's hand and quietly said, "I believe we all agreed to leave behind anything that could be traced to our true identities."

Jackson looked at him for a few seconds, and he had the thought that she was attempting to decide if she was angry. Finally, as they strode to the other edge of the clearing to continue their search of the area, she spoke, "And I suppose that means you didn't bring those fancy gloves of yours?" Roy saw her cast a sideways glance at him with a slight smile: of course, she knew he would not leave _those_ at home.

"Well, that's different." He heard a soft snort of derision from his left as his eyes scanned around them.

"How so? That's one of your strengths, this is one of mine. If you thought I'd walk to Xing unarmed, you're out of your mind." Suddenly, he saw her whip the gun around to her left and crouch down, Roy followed suit, looking over her shoulder. He heard a twig snap, and started to reach in his pocket for one of the aforementioned gloves when he saw a deer appear several yards away. It must have caught their scent after that since a fraction of a second later it bounded away. Both he and Jackson stood, and she said, continuing their hushed conversation, "Besides, the gun's unregistered and the serial number's been removed. So, no worries."

Roy turned is head and gaped, saying, "You're just full of surprises."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess you break the rules a bit more than I expected."

"Yeah, well, the rules didn't exactly serve me well in Ishval." She stopped to face him, holding up her firearm for emphasis, "So, whatever I need to do to protect or save people I care about, then I'm all for it. I took so many lives in service of an evil I didn't want any part of because I was following the rules. I'd like to do some _good_."

After a minute, Roy realized he was staring when he heard Jackson's "What?" Regaining his composure, he started walking again and told her, "Nothing. It's just…interesting." A few paces later, he continued, "I came to a very similar conclusion after Ishval. I'm not like Kimblee. I didn't enjoy carrying out those orders. I want to _help_ people." It was apparently Jackson's turn to stare, because Roy briefly turned is gaze toward her and noticed she was giving him a strange look that he could not quite place. She returned her eyes to the task of observation and he saw her lips curve into a barely perceptible smile. A few minutes later she said:

"So, Becca brought her medical bag along. You gonna give her shit too?"

Roy laughed and replied, "Ya know, I seem to remember you saying that this…" He held up his hand and snapped a couple times to indicate flame alchemy. "…was _one_ of my strengths. That's almost a compliment. Now, what would you say my other gifts are?"

"I don't know…Turning self-aggrandizement into an art-form?" Jackson chuckled as Roy falsified an affronted expression. "Do you turn everything into flirtation?"

"Not _everything_ …I've never flirted with Grumman. Not even once."

"Well that's a relief," Jackson replied with a smile. By that time, they had searched a substantial distance with no evidence of other individuals present, so she added, "Let's head back. I could use a nap."

They retreated in the direction of the tent and, when they arrived, found Fuery on look-out duty while Catalina rested. Roy felt somewhat astonished as, without another word, Jackson handed her firearm to him, giving him a 'Just in case' look. She collapsed next to her friend and appeared to fall asleep as soon as her eyes closed. Roy plopped down next to Fuery, outside in the little shade provided by the tent, and leaned against one of the tent-poles.

"So, all clear ahead, Boss...I mean, Roy?" Fuery flashed a self-conscious grin: he was still uncomfortable addressing his commanding officer so informally.

"Yeah, we should be fine. We'll leave in a few hours, when it's still twilight."

"Feel free to sleep. I'm good with the watch right now. I'm wide awake."

Roy waved him off, saying, "No thanks, I'm alright."

* * *

A few hours later, Roy thought he heard someone saying his name, but they sounded far away. "Roy?" He felt something grip his upper arm and shake him lightly, "Roy? C'mon, wake up. Time to go." He forced his eyes open and blinked them a few times to clear his vision. Jackson was crouched next to him, one hand on his arm, and she must have already retrieved her gun since it was gone. From inside the tent he heard Catalina shout, "Hey, Liz! Is sleeping beauty up yet?! We gotta pack the tent."

They quickly stood and Roy apologized, "Sorry, I'm up…And, sleeping beauty?"

"Don't mind Becca, she's just bossy and impatient."

Catalina came bustling around the side of the tent saying, "I'm not bossy." Then, "Ok, I am. But you like it."

"You know I do, Becca," Jackson replied with a smirk. With the three of them breaking down the tent, it did not require much time and they were soon on their way. Stopping at the small pond, they used the water to wipe down their faces and hands since they would be in public once more in the near future.

After another hour of walking, they finally saw the lights of the small town up ahead. Heading directly to the inn, they entered and, in Xingese, Roy asked for two rooms. It was Sunday night and it would be impossible for them to make the rendezvous in time anyway. If the other guys were already there, they would at least wait through tomorrow.

The foursome climbed the stairs to the rooms given to them and split up, the ladies entering one and Roy and Fuery invading the other. The rooms they were given were down the same hallway, and directly across from each other, which was convenient. Letting Fuery occupy their shower first, Roy picked up the phone and dialed Hughes' phone number. It had now been several days since he last checked his friend's progress on the topic of Riza's death. The phone rang a few times and then someone picked up:

"Hello?"

"Hey, Maes, it's me." Roy was starting to feel nervous, wondering if Hughes had found something, and if Riza was actually murdered.

"Hey, man! You're still alive! That's great!" Maes was always so positive, and even rivalled Major Armstrong in level of happiness and excitability.

"Yeah, thanks. I'm pretty happy about it." _Actually very happy seeing as I came decently close to not being alive._

"Oh, guess what! Gracia took a pregnancy test. We don't have the results yet but, fingers crossed! I'm hoping for a girl."

Roy smiled, "I can already see you threatening teenage boys at gunpoint."

"Well, maybe not at gunpoint," Maes chuckled. "But, they would need to have a healthy fear of me."

"Oh don't worry, they will. And if anything were to happen to her, they'd have me to contend with, too."

"Aww, thanks buddy. I appreciate that. But, I'm betting that's not why you called." Maes' ability to switch from buoyant to serious in the blink of an eye had always amazed Roy.

"No, not exactly. Any news?"

"Well, as far as possible murder? No. I was out there yesterday checking records. No real evidence of foul play." Maes' voice had taken on a businesslike tone. "Of course, it doesn't help that no autopsy was done. But, they had no reason to at the time."

"Ok. But it sounds like there's something else." Roy felt relieved that it did not appear that Riza was murdered, and he was at a loss as to what Maes could still have to tell him.

"There is. And it's weird." Maes paused, as though trying to find the best words to convey his next message. "Ahh…Berthold Hawkeye's remains were exhumed. And not by any authority I've spoken too."

Roy's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. "What?!"

"Yeah. Apparently it happened Friday, the day before I showed up. Nobody saw a thing. Do you happen to know if he was buried with anything?" Maes asked.

"Not anything that I recall." Roy almost did not want to ask his next question. "And…Riza's grave?"

"Nothing occurred there. I told the managers of both cemeteries as well as local law enforcement to contact me should anything happen in any way connected with that family. Oh, and, by the way, she wasn't buried near her family?"

"No. They weren't on great terms. It's a long story." And a story that Roy would likely never tell him, at least not entirely.

"Oh! Before I forget, I found this interesting. His casket was still there, in the grave. It had been opened, they just didn't bother to put the dirt back. So, either someone just doesn't care if you know, or they want you to know." After a moment of thought, Maes continued, "Also, the Hawkeye home may have been tossed. It's hard to tell, since neighbors say it's been vacant for years, and there's not much there. But someone may have been looking under floorboards and behind wall panels."

"Ok, thanks Maes." Roy was still stunned.

"No problem, buddy. Look, I have to go, Gracia's calling me."

"Ok, man. Bye."

Roy did not even wait for Hughes' farewell before he hung up the phone, staring unseeing at the floor in front of him. _Oh, hell no._ If they dig up Riza's grave, these bastards will have everything they need. It would be ridiculous to station a guard at a grave, however, because then the ARF would know there was something valuable there.

From out in the hallway, he heard Liz's burst of laughter in response to something Rebecca must have said. Suddenly, his head shot up, eyes wide, realization hitting him. _It was a closed casket._ He never actually saw Riza's body that day; the coffin was sealed from the beginning. Roy's breathing became slightly more rapid and he stood, pacing around the room in thought, a hand raking through his hair. He could  not allow his mind to run away with him as it did the night he saw Liz for the first time.

Sure, it was _possible_ , though quite far-fetched. He was only thinking like that after talking to Maes about Riza's and Berthold's graves. Roy had no proof, and he could not just go across the hall and tear her shirt off, as much as he'd like to. Her father died of his ailment, and then she fell ill too. The fact that he did not see her corpse does not mean it was not actually in there. _Don't get your hopes up, Roy. She's gone._ With that thought, he felt the return of the familiar ache in his chest that came whenever he thought about Riza too much.

* * *

 **AN:** Happy Sunday! I hope you like the chapter and thanks for reading!


	16. Silly Little Emotions

**Disclaimer** : I don't own FMA

* * *

 **Silly Little Emotions**

To put it mildly, Elizabeth had started to freak out. She had never felt more conflicted in her life, and she really was not one to lose her shit. Simply stated, Roy Mustang caused problems, and feelings, and the worst part was that he seemed to actually be the person she thought he was years ago. He was protective of his team to a fault, still had those dreams they'd discussed when she decided to give him the secrets of flame alchemy, and was even more determined after what happened in Ishval.

Add to that the fact that she caught him watching her more than once of late, an odd look on his face. Her mind went back to the night they saw each other at the bar, and how Roy reacted when he thought he saw Riza. _Would he have reacted that way if he didn't give a shit?_ And then there was the surprising news he told her when he pulled her aside during a stop at a gas station on the drive to the rendezvous point.

" _Hey, Liz. I need to talk to you," Roy said as he gently grasped her upper arm and led her toward the rear of the car so they could see if Rebecca or Kain were returning from the restrooms._

" _What's goin' on?" Elizabeth was apprehensive: if he felt he could not speak to the others about this, it had to be about the Hawkeyes._

" _I've been having a friend look into something for me. And you should know, the ARF may be escalating. They exhumed Berthold Hawkeye's remains, presumably looking for his notes."_

 _Elizabeth could not stop her jaw from dropping, or her complexion from becoming more pallid. If they did the same with 'Riza's grave' it could be disastrous, her position was suddenly even more precarious. Only two people besides her knew about the tattoo: Roy and the bastard that put it there. Roy would_ _know_ _. Trying to regain control of her facial expressions, she said:_

" _That means Grumman may not be useful to them for much longer, if he isn't already dead." She turned away from him when she said that, fighting back the tears that surfaced in response to that thought._

 _Before she knew it, Elizabeth was facing him again, and his hands gripped her shoulders. Roy met her gaze, and she was struck by a look of resolution that likely rivalled the one she frequently employed. "Don't think like that, Liz. At least not yet. I'm the_ _only_ _one_ _that can give them what they want. They can't kill Grumman. He's their only bargaining chip."_

 _She looked at him and all she could think was,_ Not exactly, Roy. _Elizabeth feigned a small, relieved smile, as if he'd made her feel better. However, she knew that the fact that he didn't mention Riza's tattoo meant he didn't know if she knew about it. And that he was terrified of that grave being exhumed too, just for a different reason._

The entire crew had been reunited, and they were again in a vehicle, this time on the road from the rendezvous point to their water transportation from Xing to Aerugo. Elizabeth sat in the front passenger seat as Rebecca drove, thinking about that interaction between herself and Roy at the gas station. She recalled that, as she looked him in the eye, she had to fight the powerful impulse to just tell him everything. But she couldn't, not yet, not until she knew for sure that she had no other choice. She would read everyone in if it was absolutely necessary in order to save Grumman. Elizabeth was unsure, however, if waiting was for the benefit of their work, or because she did not know how Roy would react.

She was grateful when they finally arrived at the docks where they would obtain their transportation to Xing. They found it in slip 192: a boat large enough for a few cabins and a small galley, but not so ostentatious that they would draw too much attention to themselves. The waters between southern Xing and southern Aerugo were teeming year 'round with the yachts and houseboats of the wealthy. A modest vessel, in relation to the others they would see, carrying seven college students would go unnoticed.

The time spent unloading the car and moving supplies provided by Madame Christmas to the boat gave Elizabeth a welcome distraction from her musings. Later that day, Elizabeth and Rebecca were picking up a couple sets of clothing more befitting their cover along with their more clandestine purposes, and stopped at the market to pick up some fresh food to provide them all with a break from protein bars and non-perishables.

They wandered through booths selling practically anything that might jump to their minds. The sun was shining, the market was brimming with patrons, and a variety of colors and the scents of spices came from all directions. Elizabeth had to smile; this was something she loved about travelling. If she did not know any better, she might have been on a vacation. Rebecca spoke quietly:

"Hey, Liz. I have an idea I'm not sure you're gonna like." She shot her friend a look and then returned her attention to browsing the selection of apples at a produce booth.

"Let me hear it. Ya never know. I might like it." She tested fruits and vegetables for their maturity and a guess of how recently they were harvested.

Rebecca moved closer to her and said, keeping her voice low, "So, I found out from Heymans that Jean's birthday, the real one, is in a couple days. And I thought it might be nice to do something. Ya know, team bonding or whatever."

Elizabeth let out a light laugh, certain that team bonding was not all her friend was thinking about. "And what did you have in mind?"

"We could make dinner for the guys as 'a thanks for _letting us travel with you_ ,' ya know?" Rebecca had a look on her face that said she thought Elizabeth was going to reject the idea forthwith. At least she stuck with the cover.

"By we you mean _me_ , right? Since you can't cook for shit." She said it with a smile: all her friend could make was prepackaged ramen, and beef stew with dumplings.

"Hey now!" Rebecca nudged her with an elbow. "But…yes. So, what do you think?"

Elizabeth thought for a moment, and then replied, "Actually, I think it's a good idea. It would give us all an opportunity to get to know each other a little while we… _travel_."

"Yay! What're you gonna make?"

"You're not even going to help, are you?" Elizabeth feigned indignation but, in truth, she enjoyed cooking. It had been one of the few things that soothed her when she first realized she'd never hear from Roy again. Not surprisingly, chopping, slicing, and dicing with a freshly honed knife was a great way to vent frustrations. And, since she was not one to waste, she would prepare a wide variety of foods for the real Liz.

"I was planning to help Jean drink some wine but…I could help you instead." Rebecca permitted a small pout, which strangely resembled a smirk, to invade her features.

"Nah, you have your fun. I'll have to find a way to be a wizard in that tiny galley, but I'll figure it out. You, please go find a few bottles of wine. I need to go back to some of these booths, see what's fresh."

"You are the best friend ever, do you know that?" Rebecca was practically giddy and also started to look for a little gift she could get for Jean. In the end, they left with several bottles of wine, fresh salmon fillets, garden-fresh herbs, along with a few other necessities for the meal she was planning. Elizabeth smiled: it had been a while since she'd seen her friend so happy about a guy.

* * *

Roy tried, he really did, but once he had the thought about the closed casket his mind was capable of dwelling on only that. He was unable to get the idea out of his head: _Liz could be Riza._ He recalled the night at the club and how certain he was that she was Riza, until he noticed the brown hair and remembered the funeral. He finally remembered the expression on her face that night: it was one of recognition and surprise. She _knew_ him. Now, either she researched him, which was possible, or she knew him from before.

Roy found himself listening more closely to how she spoke and her laugh. He watched her mannerisms and her body language, looking for anything that would tell him the truth. He was torn between hope, pessimism, and anger; if she was Riza, then damn was she good. Roy was itching to call Maes again to find out if there had been any more developments but he would not have an opportunity until they reached their first stop in Aerugo. First, he and Elizabeth had to meet with a contact of Madame Christmas' in order to pick up additional Aerugonian currency she was able to procure for them on short notice.

They were leaving the boat, and Roy turned to Havoc and Falman, saying, "We should be back in an hour at the latest. Hopefully by then you guys will decide where we're going next." Of course, they all knew which city was their next stop to refuel. Roy just wanted them to plot their course so when he and Elizabeth returned, they could leave immediately.

They walked next to each other down the docks in the direction of the street, dressed casually to have the appearance of tourists. Her gun was holstered at his back since it was better concealed by his clothing. For their little meeting, they had to reach a small café several blocks away. They would have coffee and, before they left, would retrieve the money that should have been affixed to the underside of the table.

Reaching the street, they made sure to maintain a leisurely stroll, browsing the wares offered by a variety of shops and vendors. Roy had his hands in his pockets, and felt Elizabeth link her right arm through his left, saying quietly, "You seem preoccupied. Everything ok?"

"Yeah, everything's fine." _Not really, no._ "Just have a few things on my mind." If she observed he was a little distracted, what else had she noticed?

"Well, we're here to help, ya know," she replied, briefly looking him in the eye. "Ooh, look at these!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward a stand selling sunglasses, putting on a pair and looking back at him. "What do you think?"

He smiled, "They look nice. But don't you already have a pair?"

Elizabeth responded as she paid, "Yeah, but they seem to still have endless amounts of sand everywhere. I'm not sure how."

"I hear you're making dinner for us when we dock in the next city. Are you any good in the kitchen?" Their arms were linked again and he glanced over at her with a smirk.

"I dabble," she replied with a small grin as she looked over a booth selling skirts they were passing. Roy had the thought that the shorts she wore showed off her legs more than any of those skirts would. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. Then she added, "Becca tried to talk me into it with the excuse of team-bonding. But, I'm sure you've figured out her motives."

"Yeah, it wasn't that hard."

Elizabeth laughed, "No, I'm sure it wasn't." After a moment, she continued, "You don't miss much, do you?"

"I try not to. And I have a hunch you notice more than you let on."

She stopped to run her hand through an exotic fabric at one booth, throwing a quick glance past him to her right. When they started walking again, she spoke so quietly he had to strain to hear, "That's true. For instance, _I've_ noticed the guy that's been following us since we left the docks. And either you haven't seen him, which I doubt, or you have and just haven't said anything. Why might that be?"

"Oh, I've noticed. I just figured we could let him follow, maybe find out who he's with. And I didn't mention it because I wanted to see if you'd spot him."

"Sounds good to me…And I suppose that's fair." They walked a few more steps and the café came into view. Elizabeth said, "Hey, Roy, how about a cup of coffee?"

"I'd love one." They took a seat at a small outdoor table in the corner where the fence met the front wall of the coffee shop. A server approached them and Roy looked at Elizabeth as an indication for her to order first.

"A coffee. But, could you bring a little milk please?" The waiter nodded and then turned to Roy.

"Coffee for me too, please."

When the server returned, Roy watched as Elizabeth prepared her coffee to her liking. She poured a small amount of milk into her mug and then picked up her spoon, giving the liquid one…two…three…and then four revolutions. She then set the spoon on the small plate beneath the cup and took a drink while looking at the shops and people around her. Roy remembered that Riza would always give her coffee three turns, no more, no less. He used to tease her about that. It was possible that she altered her habit so he would not recognize it. _Or, she's not Riza, and you're losing it._

They finished their beverages, chatting about random things, and then paid the bill and Elizabeth carefully removed the envelope taped to the bottom of the table and slipped it into her bag. She linked her arm through his again and they started to stroll back to the docks, making sure they always knew the position of the man following them. When Roy spotted a promising looking alleyway that was somewhat shadowed and empty, he turned right and led Elizabeth down it. They continued until they were about halfway in between two streets and stopped to face each other, as if deep in conversation, concealing themselves behind an old telephone booth that no longer seemed to be functional.

Roy could hear footsteps coming in their direction but could not see the man directly. She took a step closer to him, right hand on his chest, and he felt her left arm wind around his waist and retrieve the gun. He heard the click of a disengaged safety and a cocked gun. Suddenly she half-spun, keeping herself between him and the approaching individual, and said with a grin, "Hi there."

Roy nearly laughed when he saw the expression on the man's face upon abruptly finding himself staring down the barrel of a pistol. Instead, he kept a serious look on his face and, taking a step towards him said in Xingese, "Who the hell are you, and why are you following us?"

The individual replied in Amestrian, "Look, man, I just have a message for you…From the Madame." He moved as if to reach into a pocket in his jacket but Elizabeth stopped him.

"Don't move." Then, to Roy, she said, "Do you want to pat him down?" Roy nodded his assent and, once more addressing the man, Elizabeth told him, "He's going to check you for a weapon. You just stay still. Trust me, I can pull this trigger much more quickly than you can move even an inch." Her voice very much implied that she was not fucking around.

When the man nodded, Roy moved closer and started checking for weapons and looking in his pockets. All he found was, presumably, the message he was supposed to deliver from Madame Christmas. Opening it, Roy saw that it was indeed in his aunt's handwriting and contained a little code that they used in communiques to verify their identities. Looking at Elizabeth, he nodded and she lowered her weapon. Speaking to the messenger, he held up the note and said, "Thanks. And, sorry about all that. Can't be too careful."

"No problem." With that, the man turned and left them in the alleyway.

Elizabeth did not hand Roy her gun to holster until the man was out of sight. "What does it say?"

Roy stuffed the message in his pocket, holstered the weapon, and they started to walk back to the street. Keeping his voice quiet, he told her, "Basically, I had her set up a false trail that made it look like we were going to cross the border directly into Aerugo. It worked: the truck we were supposedly in was attacked."

"Nice thinking. I've been wondering why they haven't been keeping an eye on us."

"Also, Grumman's house was broken into again, as was yours." Roy saw Elizabeth glance at him and was surprised when she looked relieved rather than anxious at the news. "The guard from outside his house is alive, but he doesn't remember anything." After a second he added, "I expected you to react a little differently."

"There were a few things I took from Grumman's just in case they decided to take another look. I'm really glad I did." He noticed her looking around again, ensuring they were not followed back to the boat and the rest of the team.

"But, if your place was searched, they may have found something anyway."

"Oh no, don't worry. They won't find anything important where I live." Elizabeth's own stash was very secure since it was not at her home. It was even tied to yet another alias that could not be traced back to Elizabeth Jackson.

"Ok, if you're sure," Roy replied, still slightly skeptical. "I don't like this. They're getting desperate."

"It worries me, too. But we're almost there, Roy." He felt a slight squeeze of reassurance on his upper arm. By that time, they had arrived back at the boat, and their conversation was cut off in last-minute tasks for their departure. When they finally left, Roy sat back in one of the seats on deck behind Falman, who was piloting their craft. He let the wind ruffle his hair and closed his eyes, thinking about what their next move could be. Tomorrow, they would stop at a city in Aerugo to refuel and then, by the next day, they would have reached their safe house. They would deal with Renata, hopefully rescue Grumman, and then figure out what to do about the ARF and their unhealthy interest in flame alchemy.

* * *

 **AN:** Happy Sunday! Thank you for reading, I hope you like it, and have a good one!


	17. Disappearing Act

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **Disappearing Act**

"Hey, Bec," Elizabeth greeted as she approached the brunette sunning herself at the bow of their yacht. In transit from Xing to Aerugo, there was not much to be done at the moment and the team was taking advantage of the much appreciated down time. The sun shone brightly, warming her skin as she took a seat next to Rebecca on the deck.

"Hey, Liz," Rebecca raised herself up on her elbows to look at her friend. "Uh, what's with the shirt? You are hott…with two t's. Show it off a little would ya?"

Elizabeth had to don her staple black shirt in order to cover up the tattoo. She only hoped that it would not tip off Roy in any way, who seemed to be watching her closely of late. "I don't know what happened to the bathing suit top. And I'm not gonna walk around in a bra, even though it's mostly the same thing."

"Ok, well, either lay down here," Rebecca slapped the area right next to her for emphasis as she lay back. "Or, and I say this with love, go away. Cuz you're blocking the view."

Elizabeth stretched out next to her friend and looked around, slightly confused. "What view, exactly?"

"Perhaps you haven't noticed, but there are a couple hunks walkin' around, and I'm tryin' to flaunt what my momma gave me." With this last words, Rebecca wiggled her body slightly for emphasis.

Elizabeth laughed as both women made themselves more comfortable. "Oh, don't worry. He's been lookin' at you…you've been lookin' at him. Lots of lookin' going on. Mission accomplished. But when are you gonna make your move?" After a thought, Elizabeth shouted to their pilot, "Hey, Vato!"

"Yeah?" She heard Falman respond, indicating that he was listening.

"What time are we getting to Lucenia?"

"Um…" She heard the shuffling of maps and papers. "…around 6:30."

"Thanks!" Elizabeth shouted back, adjusting her new sunglass on her face. She allowed herself a small smile, recalling that Roy had said he thought they looked nice on her.

"No problem!"

"So you'll start dinner once we dock?" Rebecca inquired.

"Probably not right away. It won't take that long. So let's just say dinner at 7:30 and everyone can hang out for a while…So, what'd you get for Jean?"

With a low voice, she said, "Oh! I got him this awesome cigarette case from that one vendor with the crazy teeth. And I found a lighter that sorta matches at the very last booth we went to. I think he'll like it."

"You're so good with gifts. And this was a great idea. We all need to be able to trust each other. Even if that wasn't your real intention with this dinner." Elizabeth gave her friend a knowing look.

"I always have good ideas," Rebecca responded with a smirk. "What're you making?"

"Pan-seared salmon fillets and sautéed green beans served with a lemon-butter sauce and white wine."

"Ooh! The salmon you make is my favorite. You're insane, though, trying that in that tiny ass kitchen." Rebecca nudged her with an elbow. "But, who knows, maybe you and a certain dark-haired member of the Hottie Brigade will be able to get nice and close."

Elizabeth grinned and shook her head at her friend's machinations. "Do you want your fancy dinner or not?"

"Yes, I do!"

"I thought so. Oh, hey. I wanted to ask you something." Elizabeth glanced around to see if any of the guys were nearby. She wanted to ask her friend if she'd noticed Roy acting strangely, or if it was just her, but Havoc chose that moment to stroll over and plop himself down next to Rebecca.

"Hi there, ladies," he had some lady-killer grin on his face, most likely for Rebecca. As he lay down on a towel next to her, their arms brushed briefly and Elizabeth saw her friend smile in response. "By the way, Liz, I overheard what you're making for dinner. Sounds great! Thanks for doing that. It'll be nice to eat a meal that's not take-out."

"I'm happy to do it," she replied with a smile, turning her face skyward once more. "But don't thank me, this was Becca's idea, I'm just doing what I'm told." After a moment she added, "And happy birthday. I heard it's the real one."

"Thanks! I guess we're safe talking about that right now. We _are_ in the middle of the ocean," he said with a chuckle.

"Oh, no way! Happy birthday, Jean," Rebecca chimed in with pretend surprise.

"And it's like I get my own birthday dinner, too. What are the odds?"

"Yeah, Becca, what _are_ the odds?" Elizabeth felt her friend elbow her again, only this time the clear meaning was to shut up. After that, Elizabeth let herself nap off and on in the warmth of the sun while occasionally laughing quietly at Jean's and Rebecca's flirtatious banter. If those two did not end up dating after this trip, Elizabeth would be stunned.

When they finally arrived in Lucenia, Havoc and Rebecca decided to go for a walk and stretch their legs. Elizabeth whiled away some more time and then went down to the galley to being prepping the various ingredients for dinner. She'd rather lost herself in the routine of chopping shallots and garlic for the sauce when she heard a voice from the doorway.

"Do you need any help?" When she looked up, she saw that Roy was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her work. Elizabeth mentally chided herself for being so unaware of her surroundings that she had not noticed his presence.

She smiled. "Sure. You could start by pouring us some wine, if you like."

He gave a small nod and grin, making his way over to where the wine was being chilled. "I didn't think it was recommended to use sharp knives while under the influence of alcohol." He poured wine into two glasses and walked the short distance between them to hand one to her.

She set down her knife and accepted the glass. "Thank you," she replied with another smile. Raising her glass briefly and taking a sip she said, "Generally, it's not. However, cooking is one exception where a glass of wine is actually a requirement. It's a little known fact."

"Well, I wouldn't want to break the rules." After another sip he added, "Is there anything else I can do?"

"If you're willing to help, I won't say no." She pointed toward the small sink, next to which she had set the green beans. "You could clean those. I've already set the colander in the sink."

"Ok, how do you want it done?"

Elizabeth set down the knife, wiping her hands on a towel nearby, and moved around the small counter toward him. She placed a hand on his back as she walked behind him so if he moved he would not run into her. Opening the bag of fresh green beans, she grabbed a few to demonstrate what she wanted.

She felt him move closer to watch and she became extremely aware of the positioning of all her body parts, how when she swayed slightly with the motion of the boat their arms brushed, how warm she felt after that wine. _Cool it, Liz._ "Just break the ends off like this…" she showed him and then tossed the ends in a small bowl she was using for waste. "…and put them in the colander. Try to keep them of uniform size, though, so you may have to snap some of the longer ones in half. After you've done all of them, just rinse them off with water." Elizabeth looked up, giving him a small smile of gratitude for helping, and then started to make her way back.

"Sounds easy enough," he said as they started to turn together in the small kitchen so he could reach for his glass of wine that was on the counter behind her and she could return to the cutting board. The boat tilted again thanks to a somewhat larger wave, and Elizabeth found herself with her lower back up against the counter. Roy, who had also slightly lost his balance while moving toward her, caught himself with his hands on either side of her. Her own hands moved up to his chest to keep him from falling into her, but their bodies were already pressed together and their eyes locked. She felt one of his hands go to her waist to steady her and she saw his vision flick to her mouth and back up; her face flushed.

Elizabeth thought he might kiss her, and she almost moved to brush her own lips against his. Then she heard voices coming down the stairs and the moment was over. Roy cleared his throat, following it up with an, "Excuse me." With sheepish grins, they disentangled themselves and she moved to the other side of the counter, reaching for her wine. They made short-lived eye contact and, equal parts relieved and disappointed, she returned to her task while Roy started on his.

* * *

When Elizabeth left the group to begin cleaning up after dinner, Falman offered to help her and Roy took the opportunity to sneak away to call Maes before their departure. It was a comfortable night as far as temperature went, and there was a decent breeze coming off the ocean. He could smell, and nearly taste, the salt on the air and he was pleasantly full from the team's meal. It turned out that Elizabeth was quite a good cook, and she had also surprised them all with cupcakes for desert. Whether those were made or purchased by her, however, he was not sure. Roy would not have had much confidence in the small oven that the galley provided.

It was nice to have some time to himself for a little while, though he'd had a hell of a time convincing Havoc to let him go for a walk alone. He slowly strolled along the docks, looking at the wide variety of watercraft there, and then walked down a couple streets looking for a telephone booth.

Throughout the day he had been trying not to think about the Liz/Riza issue. This was especially true after he noticed that her back remained covered despite the fact that she was laying out in the sun with Rebecca. Coincidence? He was not sure. It was also difficult to not think about her after the time they spent together in the kitchen, though that was for an entirely different reason. Roy had been slightly relieved that the moment ended when it did. Otherwise, he _would_ have kissed her, and he worried that would cause them to return to their awkwardness.

When Roy reached a telephone booth, he entered, closed the door behind him, and dialed Hughes' familiar number. It rang several times, and for a moment Roy thought his friend was not going to answer. Fortunately, he finally heard:

"Hello?" The voice was feminine and sounded to be in a good mood.

"Hey, Gracia. It's Roy. How are you?"

"Oh hi! I'm great! How are you?" The sound from the other end of the line cut out for a moment and Roy figured she'd covered the receiver, already calling Maes to the phone.

"Can't complain."

"I assume you're looking for Maes?"

"Yes, thank you." After a few seconds, his friend's voice was on the line.

"Hey, Roy. How's it goin' buddy?"

"I'm still alive at least."

Maes chuckled on the other end. "Going that well, huh?"

"Just about. So, the pregnancy test? I've been wondering if I'm going to be an unofficial uncle."

"It was negative." Hughes' disappointment traveled through the phone line along with his words. But then, ever the optimist, "But, I still have a good feeling that we'll have a girl. Fear not, man. We'll make it happen." Roy could almost hear Maes' smile and see him wink along with those words.

"Ok. Well, I'm gonna try to pretend I didn't hear that very suggestive sentence. That's gross, you're like my brother."

"Ya know, Roy? Oddly enough, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Maes chuckled.

"Oh yeah? Don't get used to it. Any news for me?"

" _That_ was a quick subject change." Silence reigned on the line for nearly a minute and Roy heard Maes exhale.

"Oh shit. What happened now?" Roy's apprehension continued to grow exponentially the longer it took for Maes to respond. Hughes did not exactly enjoy being the bearer of bad news, so this must be major.

"Yeah, I have news. But you're not gonna like it." After another few seconds he added, "I'm just gonna jump right in…Ya know that girl you first asked me to look into? Riza? Well, I got a call the other day that they dug her up, too."

"Shit." Roy put forth his best effort to continue breathing. He heard the receiver creak from the pressure as he white-knuckled it. "And?"

"I went out there to check it out. Do you know if _she_ was buried with anything? If you could tell me what the hell these guys are looking for, I might be more useful." Hughes was not often frustrated, but Roy could hear the minor irritation in his voice at being kept in the dark.

"I don't know if she was buried with anything, it was a closed-casket service. And no, I'm sorry, I really can't tell you. What was left when you arrived?" He did not want to tell his friend what the ARF was after, namely flame alchemy along with the Flame Alchemist, because he knew Maes was a worrier.

"Same deal as the other Hawkeye. The casket was left in the grave, which was not filled in. Inside the casket was the corpse, with some clothing and jewelry she had on. I had the…"

"Wait, the corpse was still there?" _What the hell?_ Roy wondered how else they would have been able to retrieve the tattoo.

"What? Yes. Why on earth would they take it?" Hughes' tone clearly conveyed his astonishment at that question.

"Nevermind. Please continue. I need details Maes."

"Working on it…I had the ME out there rush an autopsy. Well, they're not too busy, so I got it today. No evidence of foul play; she died of natural causes. The ME said that the illness is genetic, but that it's not what Hawkeye Sr. had."

"What the hell?!" Roy angrily ran a hand through his hair and looked frantically through the windows of the telephone booth, as if he might find answers in the passerby. "Sorry, man. Give me details of the body."

"Uh…ok, if you insist. Caucasian female, late teens to early twenties. Height: 5'3", blue eyes, brunette, a three-inch scar on her upper right shoulder of unknown origin. A small scar on the lower left calf, also of unknown origin."

As Maes listed off the details of what was supposedly Riza's body, Roy became more and more agitated and his heart pounded away. He clutched at his chest when he heard the height; Riza was taller than that. When Maes mentioned the eye color, Roy knew, and by the word 'brunette,' he was certain. However, there was still only one way to know definitively and without a doubt. He had to know; he _had_ to ask.

"Maes, were there _any_ other markings of _any_ kind? Other scars, birth marks…tattoos?" He knew that his voice sounded tense, that he'd given up on his habitual practice of disguising his speech to hide any emotions. The time between his question and Maes' response felt like an eternity to Roy, and he wanted to scream at him to answer. He was once again torn between hope, cynicism, and anger. He felt like he was suspended in midair in the middle of some giant chasm, and all escape seemed impossible. Finally, he heard Maes inhale before speaking.

"No, man. Nothing."

"Oh holy _fuck_." Roy felt his back contact the side of the booth and heard his dropped receiver hit the ground with a crack. He was staring out a window wide eyed, yet saw nothing, ire seeping into every portion of his being. His heart raced, he ran both hands through his hair, and then pushed off the wall and leaned on the telephone itself for support. "Holy _shit_."

Roy was only vaguely aware of Maes' shouts coming from the phone when he picked up the receiver and slammed it home. He knew it was unwise, knew that Hughes would worry, but he was incapable of carrying on a conversation at the moment. Exiting the phone booth, Roy walked in whatever direction he was facing, the rest of the world a blur. He had no clue how long he walked, but he entered the next bar he saw, sat down on a stool, looked at the bartender and said, "Whiskey, neat."

Roy sat there, staring at his own pained reflection in the glass behind the liquor bottles, and lost track of time and glasses of whiskey. He sporadically murmured, "I was _fucking right_ ," at which point the bartender would usually look at him as if wondering if Roy was crazy. To the bartender's credit, Roy was feeling partially crazy at the time. He never lost it, but after that phone call, he could not control his emotions.

Part of him was elated: he'd _loved_ her, thought he'd lost her, and she was still alive. Good news, right? His other half was seething because she'd been lying to him this whole time. He chuckled as he thought back to their meeting with Madame Christmas. Elizabeth, no wait, _Riza_ had known Christmas was his aunt the entire time and just played along with their little charade. She was quite the actress.

Roy's mind raced through everything that had happened since his team first arrived at Eastern Command: the night at the club, 'meeting' her the next morning, the kidnapping of Grumman, her briefing about the ARF, apprehending Bennie, the desert, everything. He looked at all those events with this knowledge, and everything made _sense_. He slammed a fist down on the bar: How could she lie to him? How could she have kept this from him?

At one point, a small voice of reason at the back of his mind chimed in: _Don't forget, Roy. You left her with promises. And you never followed through._ By the time he realized he'd screwed up, and understood just how much he needed her, it was too late. He finally wrote to her, and by the time he'd returned from the funeral, the letter had been 'returned to sender.' How much could he really blame her for _not_ telling him?

Shortly after that reprieve, his fury resurfaced and dominated his thought process once more. She'd been lying to him since he arrived in East City. And what? She was just going to lie to him indefinitely, the entire time they worked together? He has felt terrible guilt and regret ever since he left her, and it killed him when she died. But here she's been, right in front of him, letting him believe she was someone else, and letting him believe he was going crazy for thinking she might be alive. The part of him that felt lied to and manipulated was winning, thanks in no small part to the amount of whiskey he'd consumed.

Roy was still embroiled in his own thoughts when he heard the jingle of the bar's entrance opening. He looked up, and through the bar's dim haze of smoke, saw a silhouette in the doorway.

* * *

Elizabeth was growing more concerned as time passed. It had been nearly two hours since Roy had left, and all they knew was that he had to 'take care of some business' and would not allow Havoc to accompany him. She could not believe that Jean actually permitted him to leave on his own, especially when he was the target of an Aerugonian terrorist organization. At least she, Breda, or Falman could have gone with him.

"Did anyone at least see which direction he walked in?" Elizabeth asked, her irritation conveyed by the tone of her voice and the elevation of her eyebrows. Her eyes met those of every other team member in turn, and everyone shrugged their shoulders. Turning around, she descended the stairs to the cabin she shared with Rebecca, concealing her pistol at her back and stuffing some money and her fake ID in her pocket. When she returned to the group, she said, "Ok. Becca, Jean, and Kain, you guys stay here." Jean made a move to stand but she put her hand up in a stopping gesture and added, "No. You are way too drunk to leave right now." She looked up at Breda and Falman and told them, "Vato, Heymans, you two come with me."

When the three of them reached the nearest street, Elizabeth split them up: Heymans would go to the left, Vato would continue straight, and Elizabeth would take the right. She told them to look everywhere they possibly could, including alleyways, restaurants, the side of the road, etc. Elizabeth took rapid steps, the weak street lights and fog creeping in from the ocean serving to augment her nerves and concern. Her hand at the ready to draw her weapon at a moment's notice, she half expected someone to jump from the shadows any second.

Walking up the street, her mind quickly jumped from one eventuality to the next. She tried to figure out how far he'd go, what he was doing, or what his destination was. Then, one thought would edge out all the others: he could be dead or abducted, and you could have lost another of a very few people you've ever cared about. And he did not even know you were alive. Halfway down the third block she'd traveled, Elizabeth stopped and forced herself to take a deep breath. _Think_.

She began to tread a bit more slowly, endeavoring to take in as many details of her surroundings as she could. As swiftly as she could, Elizabeth checked alleys and side streets, hoping that he stayed within a four or five-block radius. If she saw a bar or restaurant that was still open, she would step inside, rapidly scan the room for Roy, and then exit. Some of the sounds around her made her incredibly aware of the fact that she was alone, at night, in an unfamiliar city.

Elizabeth was walking down the sidewalk on the second street she'd covered, approaching the roadway at the center of their search. She squinted in an attempt to see better through the darkness and the gloom of dim street lights. Then, she saw a man strolling toward her on the same side of the street, coming from the direction in which she'd sent Breda. Elizabeth kept going, but reached a hand around her back to graze her pistol, just in case.

When the individual passed under another streetlight, Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief: it was Breda. He met her at the end of 'her' sidewalk, but he was alone.

"No luck, Heymans?"

He shook his head. "No, nothing yet. How much further should we look?"

"Just go up another street or two. After that, we should just regroup at the boat to figure out our next move. Unless we get lucky and he's back at the boat by then." Elizabeth did not hold out much hope for that last option.

As she turned the corner onto the next street, Elizabeth saw a telephone booth partway down the block. Suddenly feeling a small surge of hope, she quickened her pace, recalling that Roy mentioned he had a friend looking into something. They had to be keeping in touch somehow. However, the closer she got to the booth, the clearer it became that it was empty. The booth's door opened in the direction she was heading. Looking back, she verified that she had not passed any restaurants or side streets, so she continued straight ahead.

This particular street had little traffic and very few businesses for her to check. She had gone three blocks, and was just about to return to the docks when she noticed the neon sign of a bar up ahead. Figuring she was already out this far and might as well check, Elizabeth directed her steps towards the entrance. Opening the door, she took a step inside and surveyed the room from left to right, observing the bar's patrons. When her eyes reached the right side of the room, she spotted a man with spiky black hair a few stools down from the end and her gaze met his.

Advancing a few more paces into the bar, she moved toward him and sat in the stool to his right, turning to face him. His posture was slouched and when she met his bloodshot, dark eyes again she wondered how many drinks he'd had. Catching the bartender's attention, she indicated that he should bring her the bill so she could pay Roy's tab.

Looking back at him, she put a hand on his shoulder so he would look at her and said quietly, "Dammit, Roy. You've had us all scared shitless. What happened?"

The bartender came back, Elizabeth gave him enough cash to cover the bill with some extra, and then turned her attention back to Roy. His response was to down the rest of his current whiskey in one gulp, return the glass somewhat forcefully to the bar top, and turn his body to face hers. His face was a drunken mask, and the only emotion she could discern was anger. All he said after directing his attention toward her was, "Hello… _Riza_."

* * *

 **AN:** Ahh! Posting a touch early since this weekend is quite busy for me. Thanks for reading, hope you like it, and have a great weekend! :)


	18. Losing Control

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

 **AN:** I have responded to a guest review at the end of this chapter :)

* * *

 **Losing Control**

Roy saw her eyes widen and her mouth fall open slightly in response to his greeting. Despite the dim lighting in the bar, he could tell that her face paled as well. Some of the anger in his own demeanor or expression must have told her he would not be talked out of this. They stayed like that for a half-minute, staring at each other, Roy waiting for her to reply. Finally, she blinked and looked down for a moment, and when she met his eyes again her lips had formed a sad smile.

"Hi Roy." They watched each other again, and just as he was about to speak she held up a hand to stop him. "Not here. Let's take a walk." He was already nearly overcome by fury, and that only served to increase his irritation. She bought a bottle of water for him from the bartender and then they walked toward the door. Roy was feeling remarkably steady on his feet considering his level of intoxication. He opened the door for her and exited behind her, the blast of cool night air washing over him, though not ridding him of the hurt and anger that consumed him. Putting an arm on her elbow, he directed her to the next alleyway he saw and turned them down it.

Once there, he grabbed the bottle of water out of her hand and threw it against the side of the building, bursting it and sending water in all directions. One hand on his hip, he ran the other through his hair and then quickly spun back around to face her. He knew he'd already lost his cool, but his pain and wrath were fueled by countless glasses of whiskey.

He took a step toward her, grasped her upper arms, and said, voice raised, "How the _fuck_ could you do this to me, Riza?!" She shook his hands off of her in frustration, pushing him away, and he continued, gesticulating angrily. "Shit, I feel like such an _idiot_. You have been manipulating me, and lying to me, this entire time! I thought you were _dead_ , for fuck's sake. I thought I was losing my _mind_ because I kept thinking you were Riza. How could you _lie_ to me like this?! You just paraded yourself in front of me like that every day…"

"What the hell does that mean?!" Riza interjected, eyes wide. But Roy was on a roll, and he just kept speaking over her.

"…pretending to be someone else. Letting me think I was crazy. Didn't I at least have the right to know you were _alive_?" He saw her eyes narrow in response to that comment. He was pissing her off: oh darn. "I bet you had a nice laugh after our 'meeting' with my aunt. Was that fun for you?" He sneered. "Little did I know we had the best damn actress in the world at the table. Was anything that happened between us even _real_?! Or were you playing a part for all that too?" Roy noticed that his last two questions really angered her. He saw her hands curl into fists and her jaw set. "Well I hope you and the General enjoyed fucking with everyone. Ya got me, Riza. Congratulations! But what right, exactly, did you have to treat me like this?! What…"

"What right did _I_ have?!" She forcefully interrupted, unable to hold her anger back any longer. "Are you _kidding_ me, Roy?! I had every reason to leave you in the dark. You, on the other hand, have _no_ right to expect me to tell you jack shit." He took a step toward her but she pushed him back and pointed a finger at his chest. " _You_ left _me_ , asshole! Remember? Once you got your precious _secrets_ , along with anything else I was willing to give you. Isn't that right? Ladies' man Roy couldn't leave without fucking the teacher's daughter one last time, could he? Because that's all I was to you, wasn't I? I can't _believe_ I felt guilty for lying to you." She looked away and then returned her gaze to his once more. "Ya know what, Roy? Fuck you. Come find me when you're sober. And then, _maybe_ , we can talk." With that she stalked off and, rounding the corner, she was out of sight.

Roy stood there stunned for a few minutes, his drunken haze causing him to process everything she'd just said more slowly than normal. He was astonished: she truly believed herself to be nothing more than a notch on his belt. Her words, along with the slightly watery gleam of her eyes before she left, had the effect of cooling his anger to some extent. Granted, he was still hurt, but that tiny voice of reason at the back of his mind was able to resurface at last. _You did leave. What did you expect her to think?_

Though he was not sure what precisely would happen with them after this revelation, he knew that he needed her to understand her importance to him. Riza had been more than just a sexual conquest or a good lay. Suffice it to say he did not make it a common practice to attend the funerals of those with whom he had only meaningless sex.

Roy still needed more time to calm down, and sober up, so he returned to the bar and bought another bottle of water. Taking it, he exited the bar once more and decided he could use a leisurely stroll in the general direction of the docks. He would take his time getting there, but he was aware that the rest of the team was likely concerned and felt he should make an appearance. And, there was something in his cabin that he wanted to grab before he spoke with Riza again.

After around an hour of meandering, and more water and food purchased at a random little convenience store, Roy directed his steps toward the boat. He did not feel wonderful by any means, but he felt at least mostly sober. He approached their slip slowly, treading lightly on the dock, and saw his companions before they saw him. When he climbed up onto the boat, they unleashed a barrage of questions on him.

Jean walked up to him, asking, "What the hell happened, Roy? Where have you been?" He heard the voices of the rest of the group in the background saying things like "Are you ok?" "What's going on?" "We've been worried sick."

He had no chance to respond since Rebecca ran up to him a moment later and grasped his shoulder. The expression on her face was a combination of concern and fear, her voice was tense. "Roy, where's Liz? She never came back." She removed her hand from his shoulder and instead hugged herself protectively. Havoc walked over to her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

His eyes opened a little wider. "Wait, she's not here?" Rebecca shook her head. He had expected her to return to the boat; if not directly at least before him. However, he supposed that if he needed time to cool off, she likely did too. Rather than saying anything else, he pushed through the group and ran down the steps to the cabin he and Fuery shared. Reaching into his bag, he grabbed the journal in which he kept his alchemical notes, shoving it in his pocket. Quickly ascending once more, he walked by the team, ignoring their further questioning. Just as he was about to climb down to the dock, he looked at them and said, "Stay here, all of you. I will find her. Vato, prepare us for departure. When we get back, we'll leave." Then he descended from the boat and jogged down the wooden dock back to the street. When exactly they would be back he did not know.

* * *

Riza was now _fuming_ and angrily striding toward the ocean, the salty breeze ruffling her hair and jacket. Her shoes slapped against the paved sidewalk and her breaths were quick and sharp, arms swinging at her sides. The absolute _gall_ of that man to accuse _her_ of feigning the feelings she'd had for him. She walked aimlessly for a little and discovered she was several blocks away from the water. Riza then directed her steps toward the beach. When she reached sand, she slipped off her shoes and picked them up with her left hand, treading carefully up to the moonlit waterline. Riza stood there for several minutes, eyes closed.

As she thought about their interaction, her free hand absentmindedly formed a fist once more. When she detected it, she forced the hand to relax, wiggling her fingers back and forth. Turning to look at her surroundings more closely, she saw a log a few feet back and sat down to look out at the ocean, dropping her shoes on the sand.

She had anticipated him being upset if, or when, he found out that she'd been lying to him about her true identity. Riza could naturally understand him being hurt and angry. The sheer magnitude of his ire was surprising since she did not think he cared that much. Still, for him to act as though he played no part, as though he'd done nothing wrong, was simply more than she could take. It infuriated her that he behaved as if she _owed_ him the truth the moment he arrived in East City.

As far as she knew, he had just used her to get what he wanted and then forgot about her. It was not until after she'd spent time with him, and talked to him, that she recognized he was not a horrible person. That realization complicated matters as she had sworn to think of him only as a coworker for the remainder of her existence. She thought that, perhaps, she had just been an exception to his normal gentlemanly rule, a learning experience, a mistake.

Riza sighed heavily, wondering how they were going to complete the mission and find Grumman. Still gazing out over the water, she stood, deciding that she should return to the boat since they were now even further behind schedule. She had just picked up her shoes when she perceived footsteps close enough to now be heard over the ocean. In one fluid motion, she dropped the shoes, spun around, and drew her weapon, leveling it a few inches in front of her guest's face.

She heaved another irritated sigh when she realized whose wide eyes she was looking into and holstered her weapon, saying, "Dammit, Roy. I could have shot you. Don't you know not to sneak up on people?" She picked up the shoes once again and took a step to leave, assuming he was intending to return to the team.

Then, she felt a hand on her arm to stop her and heard him say, "Please, just…wait. Can we talk about this before we go back?"

Riza considered him for a minute, trying to read his face that was silver-hued from moonlight. Her gaze moved from his dark eyes, to his hair, his lips, his jawline. He was calm now, no longer full to bursting with rage and alcohol. In the end, she turned toward the ocean and sat back down on the driftwood, figuring he would follow suit if he wished. "How did you find me?"

As he sat next to her, he replied, "I recalled you saying once that the rhythmic sound of the waves calmed you. Since we're so close to the ocean, I hoped I might find you at the beach."

She felt a small smile creep unbidden onto her face. "That was from when we camped by the lake. I can't believe you remember that."

"I remember everything, Riza."

She threw a puzzled glance in his direction and met his eyes for a moment, then turned her gaze back to the ocean. She shook her head and then looked at him again, this time without turning away. Releasing a noise of irritation, she ran her hands through her hair, a small amount of anger slipping into her voice. "I just don't _get_ it."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you remember everything. But you _disappeared_. What the hell am I missing, Roy?"

His face was pained as he broke eye contact and looked at the body of water before him. He thought for a few moments, seemingly trying to form coherent sentences. "When I left, or disappeared…it wasn't because I didn't love you, Riza." He paused for a few seconds, formulating his thoughts. At his last few words she felt a sharp sensation in her ribcage and reached to her own chest. "Far from it, actually. I cared so much that I was terrified of your disappointment. I was ashamed of the things I was ordered to do in Ishval, and I couldn't bring myself to write to you and reveal the monster I'd become. There hasn't been a day that I haven't regretted leaving you."

Riza looked out over the water as she let those words sink in, the tension in some muscle in her chest releasing. She felt so _relieved_ she half-smiled and tears welled in her eyes. Her mouth had dropped open slightly; she did not expect him to be so direct. Finally she softly said, "I'm sorry. I…didn't know. I felt angry, and used, and betrayed. After so long not hearing from you, I was convinced you didn't give a shit. I didn't know how to contact you myself, and part of me didn't want to be the one to reach out first."

She saw him reach into his jacket and remove a small book that appeared to be a journal. He slipped two paper-like items from between the pages and handed them to her. Looking down at the first, Riza felt a tear trail down her cheek as she smiled slightly. "You still have the photo."

"Of course I do."

She caught her breath when she saw what was beneath the photograph. It was a letter, addressed to Riza Hawkeye, and she recognized Roy's handwriting along with evidence of its having passed through the postal service. She looked up at him, jaw rather slack, and said, "I…I never saw this."

"I know." It was his turn to smile forlornly. "By the time I came to my senses and realized there was no way I'd get through everything without you, I was too late. I wrote that letter, mailed it, and then found out about your death the very next day. When I got back from the funeral it had already been returned, unopened." She handed him the photo but continued to look at the letter, running her finger over the addresses written on it, and he added, "You can read it if you like. Though it pretty much says what I've just told you."

"Roy, I'm so sorry. I had no idea." Riza felt a dull ache in her chest where her resentment used to be. Now _she_ felt like the idiot, having spent so much time crossly assuming the worst of him.

"No, don't be. I understand how you reached your conclusions. I'm just sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I gave you cause to doubt how I felt."

They sat together in silence for a few minutes as she processed this new information. Ultimately, she spoke first, "After I saw you that night at the club, I was floored. I left a few minutes after you did. Seeing you, working in close proximity, brought back all these emotions I thought I was done with. Keeping a healthy indignation directed at you made it easier at first, until I started to realize you really were the guy I thought you were before. You just didn't want _me_."

"That's not true," Roy quickly interjected.

"I know that now." Riza looked him in the eye again and added, "I just want you to know it was never my intention to hurt you. I never imagined I _would_ be hurting you, in any way."

His reply was to nod and stand, offering her his hand to help her up. "I still want to talk. I want to know everything. But we should get back. I think Becca was on the verge of choking me out when I didn't know where you were."

"Ok," she nodded, with a quiet chuckle, putting her hand in his to stand. When he was in the process of taking a step past her she stopped him, placing a hand along his jaw to make him look at her, their faces inches apart. "But first, let's get one thing straight, Roy. No matter what's happened, I would _never_ use the word 'monster' to describe you. I have blood on my hands, and I'm the reason yours are stained at all. If you're a monster, what does that make me? We both followed orders; the difference now is you actually have a shot at _changing_ things. That's huge."

She'd half turned away when his hand gripped her by the arm, once more stopping her progress, and pulled her close. Then, her eyes went back to his and she felt an arm encircle her waist and a hand cup her face. Riza felt a flutter in her chest, a warmth build on her cheeks, and a slight smile grow on her face. She trailed her hands around his waist to his lower back, gazes unwavering, each silently asking the other a question.

Then, without another thought, their lips met, parting to each other simultaneously, in a greeting intensified by heartbreak, separation, and hunger. She felt a thrill course through her entire body; it was incredible that he could still do that to her. Their arms tightened, nullifying any and all distance between their bodies. After the kiss, they settled into a fierce hug, and she felt his breath on her neck as he whispered in her ear, "I'm glad you're alive."

When they took a step away from each other, she gave him a small, slightly self-conscious smile. Picking up her shoes for what felt like the thousandth time, she directed her steps back towards the street, putting the shoes back on when she reached it. For the ten-minute walk back to the dock they strolled side-by-side in silence. Upon reaching the boat, Riza climbed up first and smiled when she was nearly bowled over by someone with copious amounts of brown hair. She returned Rebecca's hug, who then clutched her shoulders and said, "Liz?! Where the _hell_ have you been?" Riza saw her friend's eyes look at Roy and then dart back to her. Rebecca pulled her away and asked much more quietly, a familiar gleam of curiosity in her eye, "What happened?" She could hear the guys talking behind them and the boat rumbled to life.

Giving her a meaningful look in the eye, Riza replied, "I'm sorry for scaring you. Everything's fine and I'll explain it all later. I promise."

"Okay," Rebecca responded, stretching out the syllables in a sure sign that Riza's words had done nothing to quell her worry.

"Right now, though, I just need to be alone for a second. I'm sure you're exhausted so I'll relinquish the cabin in a few minutes."

"Ok." Rebecca's eyes were further evidence that she was still wary of what happened to her friend.

Riza walked away, only glancing quickly at Roy who was deep in conversation with Havoc and Falman. She rapidly descended the steps to her cabin and entered, locking the door behind her. Leaning her back against the door, she closed her eyes and exhaled heavily. The sudden movement of the boat made her sway slightly and she looked down at her right hand and saw that it still clutched the letter. Tearing it open, she quickly read it, tears coming to her eyes once more, though not as vehemently.

She started to hear the opening and closing of the doors to the other cabins behind her, signaling that the rest of the team was turning in. She then wiped her eyes dry when she heard a soft knock on the door still supporting her weight. Stuffing the letter into her bag, she tossed her jacket onto her bed and opened the door to allow Rebecca to enter.

The other brunette's eyes examined her face critically as she closed the door, and an expression of concern again dominated her features. "Seriously, are you ok? You've been crying. And don't even try to tell me you haven't…I'll beat his ass if he did anything to you. Talk to me, Liz."

Riza took a breath and replied with a small smile of reassurance, "I'm fine. Really. I'm just…" She looked around the cabin as thoughts raced through her mind. Riza had planned to wait to tell her friend, but in a moment of decision resolved to do so now that Roy knew. Rebecca deserved to know the truth and she did not want her to find out from someone else like Roy did. Heaving a sigh, thinking something along the lines of _oh, what the hell_ , she returned her eyes to those of her friend and said, "Ah, actually…There's something I need to tell you." She took Rebecca's hands and they sat down facing each other, each on their own bunk. Before realizing it, she mumbled to herself, "I _really_ hope you don't hate me." Tears filled her eyes once more as she look at Rebecca, whose expression was one of concern and apprehension.

"Liz, what on earth is going on? Why would I hate you?" Rebecca's eyes searched hers, as if looking for an answer.

Riza maintained eye contact, squeezing her friend's hands in her own. "Becca, my name's not Liz. It's Riza."

Rebecca's eyes grew wide in confusion and she reflexively pulled her hands away. The ache in Riza's chest grew exponentially and she leaned back as well. "What? You're… _Riza_?"

"Yes." She watched Rebecca carefully, who had one hand on her chest, eyes flitting around the cabin as she tried to process what she'd just heard. "I'm _so_ sorry for lying to you, Becca. I…"

"I think I need a little time alone." The words were meant for her, but Rebecca would hardly meet her gaze, speaking instead to some point a little above and behind Riza's right shoulder.

Riza's mouth opened and at first nothing came out as she inhaled sharply at those words. Then, she nodded and said, "I understand," as she retrieved her jacket and left the room. She hoped that she would not run into anyone else as tears were now silently streaming down her face.

Striding quickly toward the stairs, she stopped in the galley and poured herself a glass of wine. _One hell of a night._ After another thought, she grabbed the bottle and took that with her as well. When she was back on deck, hardly any lights were lit and no one else was there but Falman, who was at the helm. She nodded a small greeting and walked over to a comfortable chair on the bow and tossed her jacket on the one next to it. Dropping down onto it, she took a sip of wine and stared out at the star-filled sky and the moonlit ocean as they exited the marina.

Lightly covering her mouth with one hand, she let the tears flow down her cheeks, and took another drink. She let her hand fall back onto the arm of the chair and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Even though she completely understood Rebecca's reaction, expected it even, for some reason it was no less agonizing. She hated causing her friend pain, hated having lied to her, and could comprehend her feeling betrayed. Riza could never make it up to her, but she could try like hell.

* * *

 **AN:** Hello! Thank you again for reading and I hope you like the chapter. Posting a little early again because I've another busy weekend and didn't want to make you wait even _longer_ (Sorry for that cliff-hanger ending on the last chapter!). After this, I should be back on the reliable Sunday update schedule.

 **Joanna** \- Thank you so much for checking out my story! While I completely understand trying to stay away from incomplete fics, I'm so glad you found mine intriguing. I promise I do my best to update regularly!


	19. Long Time, No See

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

 **AN:** Responses to a couple guest reviews at the bottom :)

* * *

 **Long Time, No See**

After Roy spoke to Falman and the rest of the team about departing the marina that evening, he directed his steps toward his cabin. As he looked around, he saw that Riza was already gone and everyone else had started heading below deck as well. Though he could not be certain, he had a feeling that she would not be able to sleep either, and might return to the deck for a while.

He was still reeling at least partially from the fact that she was alive, that he now had confirmation. Roy simply could not stop himself from drawing her close on the beach: she had practically come back to life that night, for him at least. After his anger abated in response to her reaction outside the bar, the relief and happiness, and guilt, took over.

Roy lay on his bunk, hands laced behind his head for as long as he could manage to wait. It was long enough for Fuery to fall asleep and for the sounds of other people moving around to die down. He carefully stood, trying not to wake Fuery, and almost noiselessly made his way to the door. Slowly opening it, he peeked out into the small hallway between cabins to make sure there was no one that would want to talk to him and strode over to the stairs.

Once topside, he looked for Riza, nodding once at Falman as a greeting, and saw her sitting up at the front of the boat. Hands in his pockets, he strolled in her direction and, when he was level with her asked, "Mind if I join you?" A hopeful smile jumped onto his face. It may not have been ideal, and this had already been a whirlwind, but they needed to process this situation quickly since they would arrive in Anissi the coming morning. He did not know when they might have another chance to discuss this. They would also have to keep quiet so Falman would not hear; otherwise their secrets would be recorded permanently in his memory.

He saw her nod but she did not turn to look at him and appeared to be her wiping at her eyes. As he neared the other chair to take a seat, he picked up the jacket she must have set there and asked, "Are you alright?"

Finally, she glanced at him and nodded with a close-lipped smile, saying, "I told Becca."

"Ahh…I see. And she…"

"…Needed some space." After he sat, she took a sip of the wine she held and offered the glass to him, much like they did when they were younger after having pilfered a bottle of liquor from her father's meager collection. Roy took a grateful drink, recognizing it as the same wine they'd all drank with dinner. "I wasn't sure I'd be seeing you again tonight," she told him, voice soft and low.

"Like I could stay away after you rose from the grave." He handed the glass back to her after she gestured toward it.

"You've always been a little dramatic." The half-smile of a silent laugh lit her face as she sipped the wine. With a glance back toward Falman she added, "Should we really be talking about this here, though?"

"The noise from the boat should be sufficient to cover our voices. This is probably the best option."

"I suppose you're right." They shared an awkward look, exchanging possession of the glass once more, fingers brushing in a familiar way.

Roy caught her eye, and then looked away, sipping and shooting a quick glance back at Falman to make sure he was not paying attention to them. Physical attraction between them had never been lacking, and he was extremely cognizant of the fact that a short time ago he'd had her in his arms again.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything and everything." He raised the glass to his lips once again.

"You know, or can surmise, much of it already from my little briefing before." She claimed the wine and drank and he got the impression she was readying herself for the next part, her voice became even quieter. "But, there really was a Liz, she was my cousin. After my mother died, we started to write to each other. My father never went to places like the post office or grocery store so the secret was easily kept from him."

"Why didn't you want him to know?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe because it was something that was just mine." Roy was watching her speak and caught her eye when she glanced at him with a smile. "You know, she was the only one I ever told about you. Of course, never details: I didn't tell her your name, or that you were his apprentice or anything. I never even told grandfather, though I believe he suspected something happened between us."

"And he knew about me because of the tabs the military kept on your father?"

"Yes," she nodded. "Anyway, Liz was terminally ill and, like me, she was alone aside from a cousin and grandfather. I invited her to come live with me in that huge house, and promised to take care of her in her decline. Grandfather wouldn't have been able to and I couldn't bear to have her sent to some home; I wanted her to know that someone cared. I told her about my situation, as much as I could: that I was in possession of certain secrets, that there were men after them, that grandfather and I were trying to figure out a plan."

"I'm sorry you were alone for all this." Roy's guilt was resurfacing more potently than ever as he listened to her story.

She waved a hand as if to physically dismiss his comment along with his guilt. "You're not to blame. Even if I had found a way to contact you, what could you have done? It would have only put you in more danger because it could have led them right to you, and there was plenty where you were already. As angry and hurt as I was, I didn't want you to die, not in Ishval and not at the hands of those mysterious men following me." Riza paused to sip from their now shared glass of wine and added, voice somehow even softer, "I listened to the radio for news about you. I hated myself for it, but I don't know if I ever stopped caring. I was always relieved when they mentioned you, even in passing, because I knew it meant you were still alive." She caught his gaze for a moment and then looked away.

"R…Liz, I…" Even after how he left her, she still worried about him, and he felt a pang of guilt. Immediately after, he was buoyed by the idea that she might still care about him: it made him feel relieved and thrilled.

She waved him off again. "It was Liz's idea for me to assume her identity. We looked so much alike as it was, and we died our hair so the blonde would be the sick one. I made plans with grandfather to join the military whenever 'Riza' died. He wasn't crazy about that idea, but I convinced him. It would give me the training I needed to better protect myself and others, and it meant we could work more closely together on the ARF issue. I just didn't plan for them pulling me from training early to send me to Ishval." She took another drink, sad eyes looking out over an ocean streaked with silver.

"You saw me there, didn't you?" He saw her nod. "That time that Hughes and I were jumped by the Ishvalan with the really intimidating knife, you were the sniper that saved our asses, weren't you?" He shook his head and chuckled, "The Hawk's Eye. Some coincidence, that."

"Yes. I was actually often assigned to cover your squad. The most effective sniper to protect the prize alchemist: the brass took no chances."

Roy winced a little at the words 'prize alchemist,' but she was right: that's how the military viewed him. His own pain resurfaced momentarily, "And you never said anything."

"Well, there wouldn't be much point in faking my death if I told everyone I was alive, would there?" Her response was wry, but her slight grin and raised eyebrows told him she was also trying to lighten the mood.

"No, I suppose not." Their gazes and fingers met yet again as they exchanged the glass. Roy had to remind himself to breathe normally since everything about this moment was reminding him of the first time they'd ever…really acted on their feelings. The shared glass of wine, the light that glinted off her eyes, the sound of water (they'd been at the lake), and the spark every time they touched. Riza must have been having similar thoughts because, though she looked away, this time the smile remained. Roy tried to fill his mind with other things: that they had to find Grumman, how they were most definitely _not_ alone on the boat, the rules of soccer, the national bird of Amestris.

She sighed heavily. "Now what?"

"Now, I think we should tell the rest of the team. Not everything, but the fact that you're alive is pertinent."

"I was afraid you were gonna say that." Riza crossed her arms in front of her. "I forgot to ask, why did you have this friend of yours looking into me?"

Roy threw a quick look in her direction and then looked away. "I was afraid the ARF had killed you, and I wanted to know if that was the case."

Their eyes pierced each other again and she gave him a small smile in appreciation of his concern. "What do you have in mind for when we reach Anissi?"

"Actually, I think I have an idea for that now." His face bore a mischievous expression.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like your idea?"

* * *

"I was right, Roy. I don't like this idea." Riza stood with her arms folded across her abdomen, facing Roy in the middle of the living room in their safe house, which was magnificent. They had arrived earlier that morning and, as they swept the rooms for people and surveillance devices, she wished she was actually on a vacation. Madame Christmas had come through for them one-hundred percent, and she did not know how she was ever going to thank that woman.

In this particular moment, Riza was alone with Roy while Havoc and Becca tailed Renata and Breda shopped for some additional supplies they needed. Meanwhile, Fuery and Falman were bugging Renata's home and tapping her phones; now that they were finally in Aerugo, they could waste no time. It had been determined that Roy and Riza should venture out as little as possible since they were the two individuals most likely to be recognized.

"Why? It's not so bad." While he spoke, he turned to go about powering on Fuery's surveillance equipment so they could verify signal strength and functionality of the various devices. He faced her again. "Now that we're here, we need to push them into action so we can watch where they go and what they do. That file you gave me has some locations, but we don't know exactly where Grumman is. Nor do we know precisely when Renata turned or how much of that information we can trust."

"Yes, but this is dangerous, especially for you. Do you always throw yourself into the line of fire like this?"

He gave her his charismatic grin, "Only when I have the best sniper in the world to back me up. I like that you're worried about me, though."

"You've known I was alive for a day, and you're already trying to charm me into bad ideas. I guess some things never change." Riza smiled at him as she said it; that was something she did not exactly hate about him.

"It's not necessarily a bad idea, just risky. But sometimes risk is essential, we both know that. Besides, do you have any other suggestions?" They both approached the table covered in equipment when the screen started to show that some of the devices were already up and running.

Much to her chagrin, Riza had to say "No" with a shake of the head. Then, they both replaced their earpieces so they could communicate with the team as Fuery and Falman tested what they were setting up.

"Yeah, Twinkle Toes," Roy said to Kain through the earpiece. "We're getting a strong signal from everything." Then, "Hey, Loverboy, she's supposed to be out all night right?"

Havoc's voice could be heard, "Yeah, you should have plenty of time. And look, who came up with these handles? They suck."

"I did, and they're only temporary, so get over it…Great. In a little while, switch with Geniuses 1 and 2. We'll take care of the rest."

Riza and Roy took out their earpieces and shared a look. "Are you ready for this?" he asked her.

"Hell yes, I am. I just hope I get the chance to pistol whip the smirk off her face." After a pause she added, "I'm just kidding."

"I hope you get that chance too," Roy replied with a moderately enthusiastic smile.

"The codenames you came up with really do suck, ya know."

He chuckled in appreciation and returned to his serious demeanor. "Really, you won't get carried away with anger when you see her?"

"Tell me, Roy, in the time we've been working together recently, have I ever let my emotions run away with me?" She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head to the side expectantly.

"Fair enough."

* * *

Several hours later, Riza waited silently in the darkness of the kitchen, near the back door, gun loosely held in her right hand. Her ears took in every creak of the house and each sigh of the breeze outside. She had already swept the small home for listening devices or recording equipment aside from theirs. As far as she could tell, no one else would witness her upcoming interaction.

Riza took slow, deep breaths, eyes scanning the available windows for any signs that someone was approaching the domicile. On occasion, she would hear an update from one of her team members via the earpiece in her left ear. She released a silent huff of frustration after hearing Roy's voice in her ear; she had attempted to convince him to stay at the safe house for his own security. It turned out he was as stubborn as ever.

Her eyes shot to the nearest door and she disengaged the safety on her pistol when she heard footsteps coming closer. Glancing quickly around herself, Riza verified that shadows concealed her presence. Keys jingled, a key scraped into the lock, and the individual opened the door. The woman entered the kitchen, hands full, and set her purse along with a couple bags onto the dining table.

Riza let the woman walk past her into the kitchen so that she would be in between the door and her quarry. After a couple steps, Riza stepped partially out of the shadows and raised her gun, cocking it. In the silence of the house that sharp click sounded like a gunshot; the woman froze mid-step.

"Hello, Renata." Riza kept her voice low. "You took something of mine, and I'd like it back." When it looked like the auburn-haired woman was about to move, she said, "I think it's best you stay right there and put your hands up."

Renata raised her hands, turning around to look at the person in her home. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"You know very well who I am. I'm just a little earlier than expected." Riza took a couple steps to her left to give herself a better angle to make a quick exit.

"Liz? What the hell are you doing?" Renata was trying quite hard to pretend she was confused.

"Cut the shit. I know you betrayed us." Renata made attempts to protest but Riza continued to speak over them. "I don't care how or why." She tossed a set of handcuffs on the counter in front of the other woman and the metal caused a loud crack. "Take these and cuff yourself to the refrigerator door…I want to hear lots of clicks…those should be nice and snug." With one gloved hand, Riza pulled the door open a little farther, keeping a clear line of sight and her weapon aimed at Renata. "Here are my terms: you give me my grandfather, I'll give you the Flame Alchemist. Make sure you pass my proposal on to your superiors. I'll be in touch."

After those words, Riza quickly exited the residence, making sure Renata would see her heading toward to street in front of her house. When she was certain she was out of the woman's view, she noiselessly sprinted around the side of a house a few doors down and ran past its backyard to the next street over. Glancing around, she made sure Renata had not seen where she went and followed. Satisfied, she slowed her pace and walked two blocks, keeping to the shadows. On the corner up ahead, she saw the outline of a man up next to whom she strode and stood. When she reached his side, they began walking together in another direction, back toward the safe house.

They strolled for a short-time in silence in the direction of the beach. Their safe house was a beach-front property so they decided to return that way, while Havoc and Rebecca would arrive from a different direction. Breda and Falman were to remain on observation duty for a little while to see if Renata decided to go anywhere after their talk.

When they finally reached the beach, Riza began, "So? How'd I do?" She spoke softly as she pulled the earpiece out and the man next to her did the same.

"I thought you were phenomenal," Roy replied. "I sure as hell would have been intimidated."

"I still don't like this idea, Roy." Riza's eyes roamed the area around them.

"Wasn't it you who said, 'anything to get him back?'" There was a note of teasing in his voice.

"Well, when I said that, using you as bait was not precisely what I had in mind."

"Why are you so worried?" His voice had softened even further, a sure sign that he was switching to being serious.

"Because I don't like even pretending to throw you to the wolves." Riza paused, gathering the thoughts she was still trying to understand. She stopped to face him, looking him in the eye, and he followed suit. "I _just_ got you back in my life, for real. And now you want to go throw yourself into this risky play that could go horribly wrong. This day or two where we are _finally_ on the same page could just be a cruel taste of something that's ripped away again."

His hands gently gripped her shoulders. "One reason I can consider doing this is _because_ I know it's you. And I know I can trust you. Believe me, if I have any say in the matter, I'm not going _anywhere_."

"After everything, you still trust me? Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you do, but I would also understand if you had reservations." While she said this she did not meet his gaze, instead looking at various objects around and behind him.

Roy took a couple fingers and touched her jaw just to the side of her chin to gently turn her head to look at him. He waited until her eyes met his to begin speaking. "I _do_ trust you. Even when you were Liz I trusted you. We've both done things we're not proud of, been through the ringer, had misunderstandings, and made mistakes. But, _after everything_ , I'm still Roy, and you're still Riza. And that's really all I need to know." He gave her a reassuring smile and, on impulse, pulled her in, and circled his arms around her. Riza exhaled with a grin and rested her forehead on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist: she'd missed this.

* * *

 **AN:** Hello all! Thank you for reading and I hope you like the chapter. Have a good one! :)

P.S. So, I _just_ realized that, though I totally gave Becca brown hair, I'm pretty sure she actually has black hair. According to the anime at least. Oops!

 **AN #2:** Guest review responses: (I forgot to add these in when I first posted this so hopefully I'm not too late!)

Guest: Thank you so much for your comments! That's wonderful to hear. Glad you liked it!

Joanna: Of course! I do my best to respond to all. I'm glad to hear you came back! Thank you!


	20. Working Out the Kinks

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **Working Out the Kinks**

Roy was breathing heavily and sweat was streaming down his face. His arms pumped hard and the muscles in his legs screamed in protest at the extra effort he needed to exert running in sand. He could see the stairs leading up to their safe house down the beach so he gritted his teeth and pushed himself to sprint the remaining distance.

Out of the corner of his right eye, he could see Riza pulling ahead of him, which motivated him to increase his speed as well. They had been cooped up in the house more than anyone else lately in an attempt to ensure they were not recognized. An early run on a relatively deserted beach had seemed reasonable, until Roy realized that he'd lost some endurance due to his desk job.

Having reached the stairs shortly after Riza crossed their unofficial finish line, Roy passed them, slowing his gait and then walking back with his hands on his hips. He caught her eye and she gave him a full smile, which he returned, as she paced while trying to catch her breath: he had really missed her. Approaching her he said, still using her cover id, "Nice finish, Liz."

"You too." Smiling and shaking her head she added, "I was afraid you were gonna sprint that last bit."

"What do you mean? You didn't seem to have a problem seeing as you outstripped me at the end." They both started to slowly climb the stairs, still letting their muscles cool down.

"That's just how competitive I am." She tapped his stomach with the back of her hand and said with a grin, "But you may want to think about working out more if _I_ can outrun _you_ now."

He chuckled. "Ouch, _that_ was uncalled for. And you shouldn't get too cocky; you didn't beat me by much."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she laughed in response.

They were nearing the door off the rear deck of the safe house when Rebecca and Havoc abruptly exited, apparently on their way to check out one of the locations Renata and her associates had been visiting frequently after Riza's 'proposal.' Roy and Havoc greeted each other and Roy saw the two women share a short-lived, partially awkward look before Jean and Rebecca left. After the pair had traveled a suitable distance away, Roy asked:

"Still not really talking to you, huh?" He opened the door for Riza to pass through into the kitchen.

"Nope." She took a swig of water and leaned against the counter, sounding dejected.

"I'm sure she'll come around…It's only been a few days." He angled his body against the counter directly across from her so he could face her.

"I hope so, but I have to be prepared for the chance that she might not." She took another drink, looking around the room as if searching for words. "With you, it was a little different. You were already figuring it out on your own, knew it was a possibility. Becca had no reason to suspect that, and I just completely blindsided her."

From in the other room, they heard Fuery's voice shout, "Hey, guys! You should see this!"

Roy shared a look with Riza and then they both quickly moved into the other room, approaching Fuery who was seated in front of the surveillance equipment. "What's going on, Kain?" Roy asked.

"It's the location Heymans and Vato checked out last night. It looks like some kind of storage facility, and based on what they're storing, they might be planning something." Fuery gestured toward some photos Falman and Breda had taken during their reconnaissance of the facility. "The guys couldn't get any better shots since some men arrived and they had to leave." Roy and Riza leaned closer to get a better look, and his jaw dropped open slightly.

"Damn. Look, there…" He pointed while he spoke. "…in what must be the southeast corner of the building, that looks like explosives. And these substances over here are all highly flammable."

Riza pulled a photo off the table that was taken of the northern wall of the warehouse. "See these firearms here? They are semi-automatic rifles of Drachman origin, model AX-159...They're illegal in most countries." She paused then added, looking at Roy, "I wonder if they're stocking up on all this since they think I'm going to hand you over to them, after which their coup could officially begin."

"I think it's time you spoke with Renata again…see what her bosses had to say about your offer." He saw her nod in agreement, and then asked, "By the way, how could you tell the exact model of those weapons? These pictures aren't exactly award winning."

"They have a very distinctive ejection port…it's hard to miss." When Roy gave her a skeptical look, she shrugged and said, "What? I'm a weapons specialist." She turned to head upstairs and added over her shoulder, "I'll get ready and then we can pop in on Renata in some new and frightening way."

"I'm not sure you should be so excited about it," Roy responded with a light chuckle, but she just waved him off and continued up the stairs. When he turned back, Fuery was giving him an odd, quizzical look. "What is it, Kain?"

Appearing rather flustered at having been caught, Fuery went a little red in the face and quickly turned back to the screens he was monitoring. "It's nothing, si…Roy."

"Oh, come on, Kain. What's up?" Roy went back to perusing the photos of the various ARF-associated sites they had discovered during the last couple days since Riza's meeting with Renata. Needless to say, after she made her proposal, various members of the ARF had been quite active.

"Well…it's just that…you and Liz seem…kinda close since we found out who she really is, and you're a little more cheerful…and I…I was wondering…"

"Kain?"

Fuery turned his head to look at Roy once more. "Yeah?"

"Spit it out, man." Roy was suddenly trying to decide if there was any reason that he may need to better conceal his emotions regarding Riza.

"Well, I was wondering if she is who you thought she was that first night at the club." Fuery quickly finished and then turned back to his electronics, as if he thought Roy would not answer the question anyway.

After several moments of thought and decision making, Roy softly said, "Yes." When it looked as though Fuery was about to ask another question, Roy cut him off with, "And Kain? Please don't ask me any more about it." He and Riza had not discussed or determined precisely how much they should tell people. As far as he was concerned, however, their past was just fine kept between the two of them: what they shared was no one else's business.

* * *

Several hours later, Roy stood with Havoc in the empty bedroom of a vacant apartment in a suburb of Anissi. They had been maintaining fairly constant visual surveillance on Renata ever since that first meeting, and they had chosen a location below on the street for her next encounter with Riza. Havoc was providing cover with a sniper rifle, should such measures become necessary, and Roy was there to observe and run the operation. Once again, no one had successfully convinced him to remain at the safe house.

Roy checked in with Becca, who was providing additional cover from a different window that covered both a nearby alley and the street. She was in place, as was Breda at the café across the street from the selected location. Falman still followed Renata, and Fuery was utilizing his equipment at the safe house.

"ETA…8 minutes." Falman's voice came quietly over the ear piece; he had been giving them updates whenever it was possible to do so without his presence being discovered.

"Roger that."

Approximately five minutes later, Roy could see Renata round the corner at the end of the block and walk down the sidewalk in their general direction. A moment later, he saw Riza appear on the same side of the street and walk behind her, though at a more rapid pace. Just as Renata was reaching the portion of the street of which Havoc had a particularly good view, Riza reached the woman's side and Roy raised the binoculars to his eyes to better see the show. Slipping her hand into Renata's coat, she drew the woman's own firearm, keeping it hidden, and said, "Hello again, Renata. Enjoying your shopping?"

"Very much so. Would you care to see what I've purchased?" The woman was about to reach her hand into one of her bags, possibly to draw a weapon stashed there.

"Ah, ah, ah…hands where I can see them. I think I like you better when you're not pretending to be my friend." Riza pushed Renata into the alleyway directly across from Roy's and Havoc's position. She stopped the woman about one third of the way down so that Havoc and Becca could still see them but the buildings' shadows would conceal them at least in part from passerby. Shoving Renata against the wall, she brought the pistol up to her chest and said, "Do you have a message for me?"

"Yes. Not surprisingly, my superiors are interested in your offer. The exchange will take place in three days at our warehouse on Linden Avenue at 2 pm. Grumman for Flame." Renata's voice was calm though faintly tense, possibly because she had a pistol aimed at her chest.

Riza considered the woman for a second. "You can't imagine I'll agree to that without proof of life." In response, Renata extended her hand toward her pocket and Roy and Havoc observed her carefully in case she was reaching for a firearm. From her pocket, she removed a handheld radio used for communication purposes that was tuned to channel three and handed it to Riza. Static crackled lightly on the frequency and then a voice burst from the small speaker. Roy and Havoc exchanged a quick look in their hideout then returned their attention to the two women across the street.

" _Liz?...Liz? Are you there?"_

Roy heard Riza exhale, saw her tight-lipped grin of relief, and she replied, "Yes, I'm here. I'm coming for you." Roy was not sure, but it sounded as though her voice hitched, if only slightly. If it did, she was once more master of her emotions after only an instant. Roy signaled to Breda that he should abandon his current position in order to take Falman's place as Renata's tail once this interaction was complete.

" _Liz! Please, don't…!"_ Before Grumman could finish his thought, he was cut off and the radio returned to the emission of only static.

Riza's attention again focused on the woman in front of her, to whom she tossed the radio. "Very well. I agree to the meeting." Taking a couple steps toward Renata, she added, her voice lowering and taking on a menacing tone, "If you've hurt him, I will hunt each and every one of you down. That's a _promise_." Roy shared another look with Havoc after Riza's final remarks: she was not fucking around, and she may no longer have been acting.

He saw Riza quickly leave the scene, walking down the alley away from himself and Havoc. As usual, they were all leaving the area at staggered times and taking different routes back to the safe house in order to avoid being discovered. Roy noticed she was still in possession of Renata's pistol, presumably so as not to give her enemy a weapon. Glancing at Renata, he noticed she was not attempting to follow Riza but, instead, seemed to be waiting for something.

Roy returned his gaze to the far end of the alley where Riza was just turning the corner, when he heard a sudden blast of interference on their comms. He and Havoc both cringed in response to the sharp, high-pitched noise. Someone else had either been listening in, or was purposefully meddling with their devices or frequency to distract them. Fuery was good, and Roy believed him when he said their equipment was secure. That left the second option as the most likely.

Roy crouched low to stay out of the line of fire and moved toward the window to look for Catalina, who he could just make out at her own post. Looking down to the street, he could see both Falman and Breda where they been before, keeping an eye on Renata. Both men were doing their best to not show their reactions to the interference on their comms, which was beginning to abate. Roy leaned back against the wall and shot Havoc a look: the only person he could not account for was Riza, naturally.

Finally, he heard Fuery over his earpiece, indicating that they were again fully functional. "Hey, Twinkle Toes, what the hell happened?" He could hear Havoc mumble something about how he thought the stupid code names were only temporary, and glared at him for good measure.

"They didn't have access to what we were saying. They merely used a jammer to temporarily scramble electronics within a certain radius and make communication impossible."

"Everyone, check-in."

Roy heard Havoc's, Catalina's, Breda's, and Falman's voices verifying that they were listening: "Loverboy, here…Maui, here…Genius 2, here…Genius 1, here."

"Yeah, I'm lookin' right at you, Loverboy, thanks." Roy bit out as he forced himself to breath while he waited to hear Riza's voice. This was his team and he needed to stay calm, for their benefit and for his.

"Just tryin' to help." Havoc smirked and shrugged nonchalantly as he began to disassemble and pack away his rifle.

"Kiwi?" No response. "Kiwi, check-in." Silence reigned. "Shit." Roy took another breath and added, "Ok, everyone. You know the drill. Genius 1, check Kiwi's route, see what you find then head to the rendezvous. Genius 2, give us updates when you can."

"Copy that." With that, the team dispersed as previously discussed, hoping that Riza would be following the plan as well. They could not risk any kind of conspicuous search and rescue at this time since that could jeopardize everything Riza had set up with the ARF to procure Grumman's release. _She can handle herself._

A few hours later, Roy found himself contemplatively pacing the living room of their safe house, arms crossed. Havoc was currently manning the communications equipment in order to give Fuery a break. They had gotten the intermittent update from Breda regarding Renata's movement, who she'd spoken with, etc. That, however, was all.

They had still heard nothing from Riza and it was now a full hour past her scheduled arrival time. Everyone else had returned as planned: Falman had seen nothing out of the ordinary when he checked Riza's route. They were giving their missing team member a bit of additional time before they turned their thoughts to other courses of action. Roy, always planning and thinking ahead, was already running various scenarios through his mind, and what their options might be.

For instance, it was unlikely that they would abduct or kill her as neither would be in their best interest that particular juncture. It _was_ possible that they might try to follow her in order to learn more of her operation. They at least believed her to be working with someone else; otherwise they would not have bothered with impeding their communication system. Roy began to wonder if there was some player involved that he'd missed when Havoc's voice broke into his thoughts. He was still seated at the table, and Becca was standing next to him, concern practically emanating from her and wafting around the room.

"I'm sure she's fine, Bec." Havoc rested a comforting hand on her arm and gave her a reassuring smile.

"I know. I mean, I know how capable she is. But it doesn't make me worry any less." At some point, she must have gone to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine because she sipped from one, eyes darting around the screens before her. "Should we risk going back and looking for her, or for some sign of her?"

"Not yet," Roy interjected. "She was armed. If she was under attack I'm betting we would have heard her pop off a few rounds at least." He paused, and with a decisive nod continued, "But if she's not back soon, we will."

* * *

Riza was wishing she had not gone for such a demanding run earlier that morning since she felt it had seriously sapped some of her energy reserves. Of course, all the running she had to do to evade the people following her certainly was not helping matters. Looking behind her, she found no one close behind her so she ducked into the back door of some restaurant, dodging suspicious looks from the kitchen staff as she leaned against a wall to catch her breath.

She managed to get out in Aerugonian, with a sheepish smile and a half-shrug to sell the lie, "Avoiding my jerk of an ex-boyfriend. Should only be a minute." For some reason, that seemed to be enough of an explanation to at least stop them from eyeing her questioningly. When her breathing for the most part returned to normal, she slowly made her way through the kitchen toward the front of the restaurant. Scanning the dining room through the porthole-style window in the door, she slipped out and casually strolled toward the front door. Once there, she took another moment to scan the crowd before joining the throng travelling down the sidewalk.

Riza pulled her sunglasses from the top of her head and put them on. Grabbing some cash from her pocket, she made a hasty purchase of a jacket from a stall she was passing and threw that on as well. Then, she removed the clip keeping her hair up and shook out her tresses, placing the clip in another pocket. After buying something random from another shop, she looped the bag around her wrist and played the shopper. Calmly walking down the sidewalk, she would stop and browse the wares offered at a given stall while her eyes really checked her surroundings from behind her tinted lenses.

She walked until she was certain she had not been spotted again and then took a circuitous route back to the safe house, keeping vigilant to make sure no one was following. Rather than approach it directly, Riza chose to first enter the beach a few blocks from their safe house and reach it from that direction.

Heaving a sigh of relief, she started up the stairs leading to the back porch, hoping that everyone else was alright. Riza took the key out of her pocket and opened the door, eyes widening upon finding herself in the living room with two pistols pointed at her. She closed the door behind her and the weapons were shortly lowered and her gaze jumped from Becca to Havoc and then Roy, all of whom looked exceptionally relieved.

"What happened? We've been going crazy," Roy began, gesticulating in a questioning manner with his hands, eyebrows raised.

Riza sighed and threw herself down onto the couch at one end of the room, tossing her new jacket onto one arm of the piece of furniture. "Did you guys get the interference on the earpiece, or was that just me?"

"No, we got it too. But when it receded, you were gone," Roy replied, taking a seat in a chair nearby and facing her.

"How long did it last for you?"

Roy thought for a second and then said, "Around 30 seconds. Why?"

"Well, it kept going for me. I couldn't reach anyone on comms. I had the thought that perhaps they were somehow tracking the signal from my earpiece, and that's how they were continuing to jam the signal. So, I ditched it."

"That's actually very possible, good thinking," Fuery chimed in from the doorway to the kitchen as he walked back to his electronics station.

Riza nodded her thanks. "Anyway, there were three people following me. I tossed the gun I took from Renata in case there was a tracker on it. I ran until I lost them, making all kinds of random turns. I altered my appearance as well as I could, hence this ridiculous jacket, and then took an extremely convoluted route to get here. I only took so long because I wanted to make sure I wasn't followed."

"I thought they may have tried to tail you to find out more about your resources, who you're working with, and whatnot." Roy nodded along with his own thoughts.

"That's what I was thinking, too. Nothing else makes sense. Of course, I can't be sure because I didn't let them get close enough to find out."

"I would say that's a very good thing," Havoc interjected. "We're glad you're ok."

"Thanks, me too. But I need something to drink. I am _thirsty_." With a chuckle, Riza rose from the couch and strode toward the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of well-earned water. She heard voices pick up in conversation in the room she'd just left and then the sound of footsteps approaching. Turning around, she came face to face with Roy, who pulled her into a hug. She smiled and let her head fall forward to rest on his shoulder, encircling him with her arms and squeezing lightly.

Quietly near her ear, his breath on her neck making her shiver slightly, he said, "I think we need to figure out how to do this better. You gave me a bit of a scare."

"I know…we do. And I'm sorry I worried you. But ditching my comms was my best option. Danger is the nature of this job, ya know."

"I know…that's to both things." He shrugged and sighed, and Riza could tell that he was trying to determine how be Roy, but still be Colonel Mustang when necessary. A curveball, namely her, had been thrown into his world.

Inclining her head to look up at him, she cupped his face in both her hands to force him to look at her, and said, "We can do this. We _can_ work together. Who is better than we are at concealing emotions for the sake of the job? We just have to figure out a system that works for us…But right now, I have to go change." Riza pulled away, set her glass on the counter, and walked toward the stairs.

"Need any help?" Roy asked her with his devilish grin and a suggestive eyebrow raise.

She turned back, shook her head, and smirked. "Yeah, because that's the best way to handle things right now."

Roy shrugged and rolled his eyes. "I suppose you're probably right."

"I usually am." Riza continued up the stairs, entered her bedroom, and began rifling through her clothes. She was halfway changed when there was a soft knock at the door. "Hold on!" She grinned and chuckled to herself, thinking about how incorrigible Roy could be, and that she figured her sarcasm had said it all for her.

When she finished dressing, she opened the door and was surprised to find Rebecca on the other side. The other brunette gave her a small, self-conscious smile, and then a hug, which Riza returned.

"I'm sorry," Rebecca began. "I know I haven't been overly friendly lately. You know how I process things. But, I think I'm ready to talk if you are." She reached behind her and held up two glasses and a bottle of wine.

"I would like that very much." Riza opened the door further for Rebecca to enter and then closed it behind them.

* * *

 **AN:** Hello! Just returned from a great (and busy) weekend visiting family so I'm posting a little late. For those that read my other story as well, I plan to have the next chapter up tomorrow. I hope you like the chapter and thank you all for reading! Have a good one! :)

 **AN #2:** Guest review responses: (I added these to the last chapter several hours after I'd already posted so I'm putting them here as well just in case you did not see them. Please don't feel obligated to reply, just wanted you to know I didn't forget you!)

Guest: Thank you so much for your comments! That's wonderful to hear. Glad you liked it!

Joanna: Of course! I do my best to respond to all. I'm glad to hear you came back! Thank you!


	21. Operation: Get Grumman Back

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **Operation: Get Grumman Back**

The bustle of the other team-members packing their equipment and leaving could be heard in the background. The team had scouted the location given to them by Renata, planning their entrance and exit strategies, among other things. Becca and Havoc left early to take up their observational positions, along with their sniper rifles, before anyone else arrived. Fuery would again remain at the safe house to monitor their progress while Falman and Breda would be waiting at a predetermined location with a getaway vehicle.

It was nearly time for Roy and Riza to leave the safe house in order to make their scheduled appearance, and she was putting some finishing touches on her 'prisoner.'

"Are you ready?" Riza held up the handcuffs for emphasis and then raised a hand to his right ear to ensure the earpiece there was secured.

"Yeah, I think I'm ready." He looked her in the eye, apparently trying to reassure her via telepathy or osmosis or something.

Again gesturing with the cuffs she said, "Remember, I weakened the center link so you can have full range of motion when needed. Until then, be careful."

"I know." He nodded, watching her preparations. "I do feel a little naked walking into this with no weapons or anything."

"Don't worry, I've got your back. But, I also think I have something that will help that's better than your gloves." She reached into her pocket and removed a small metal object and held it out.

"Is that _the_ lighter?" Roy quietly asked, gazing at and reaching toward the gleaming rectangle on her palm.

"You mean the one you almost burned my house down with the first time you used it?" Riza looked him in the eye and smirked. "Yeah, that's the one. I grabbed it before we left thinking it may be useful." She flipped it over in her hand to show him the array etched on the other side. As he picked it up off her palm, she added, "If they check you for weapons, this will be more difficult to find…and less susceptible to water."

"Hey now, that's one of the _few_ drawbacks of the gloves." He slipped the lighter into his boot.

"I know," she laughed. "But I'm sure they will try to incapacitate you somehow. Hopefully this won't be necessary, but it's there if you need it." Riza then abruptly pulled her arm back and punched him in the face, knocking him backward.

"What the hell?!" Roy shouted, eyes wide with surprise and disbelief, hand flying to where he hit him. "What the fuck did _I_ do?!"

Riza took a few rapid steps toward him and reached her hand up to where she'd contacted his face, checking the area and then resting her hands on his upper arms. "Sorry, Roy…But you're my prisoner, remember? If I walked you in there without a scratch it would be less believable." Her brow was wrinkled with mild anxiety at having hurt him, but she knew it would help sell the ruse, and that Roy would understand. Breda, who had not yet left with Falman, leaned in the doorway to the kitchen, laughing hysterically, and received a glare from Roy.

"Heymans? Don't you have somewhere to be?" Roy said sharply and Breda, knowing what was best for him, walked out. He continued to look at Riza for several seconds, breathing heavily, and then gave a tight-lipped nod. "I get it. You just…caught me off guard."

"That was the point. It looks better that way." Looking around the room, she noticed that they were alone, Fuery having run to his room to grab a few back up items before the operation began. Returning her attention to Roy, she took another step closer to him and could feel the heat radiating off his skin. Looking him in the eye, she removed both of their earpieces and carefully set them on a table nearby. Seeing his minor confusion, she smirked, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him toward her.

His eyes widened in response, a grin creeping onto his face, as Riza angled her own upward. With her left hand behind his neck she brought her lips to meet his, eyes closing. Again caught unprepared, Roy seemed to react more favorably to this surprise, leaning into the kiss. He slipped his arms around her waist and closed the distance between them, bodies pressed together exquisitely. Her other hand relinquished his shirt and ran around his waist to his back, taking in every muscular contour. One of his arms tightened around her while his other hand came to ghost lightly down her side. His fingertips slid beneath her shirt at the hip and grazed her skin, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end.

Riza smiled against his lips and pulled always slightly, raising her eyes. "Better?" She replaced the communication devices in their respective ears.

"Immensely."

They held each other's gaze for a few more seconds, he smiling and she biting her lip, and then Riza tapped him on the arm. "Good, because it's go time." She cuffed his hands behind his back and then reached into her back pocket. She pulled at the black hood hanging from it, moving to place it over Roy's head. It was halfway down his face when she yanked it back up momentarily, saying, "And Roy? Don't do anything stupid."

"I never do." His devilish, mischievous grin made yet another appearance, and it was the last thing Riza saw as she lowered the hood fully. Slipping her pistols into her shoulder and back holsters, she put on her game face and grasped Roy's upper arm to lead him to the car, helping him into the trunk.

"You ok in there?" His response of 'yeah' could be heard both over the earpiece and muffled from the trunk. Riza strode to the driver's side door, slipping in and turning the key in the ignition. As she pulled around the house and down the driveway to the street she said, "Hey, Loverboy, we're on our way."

"Copy that."

Roy's voice came over the comm, "Ok everyone. The party's about to start…you know what to do."

As Riza approached the warehouse, she slowed the vehicle enough to better observe her surroundings while still driving normally. As the building loomed closer, she could see Renata standing in front of a large garage door with several other people. Riza continued to drive toward the building, and the armed individuals split into two groups, providing her with a direct path to the door that was beginning to roll upward.

"Show time, Roy," she muttered, moving her lips as little as possible.

Slowly pulling the car inside, the door shut behind her and Renata entered through a side door and walked up to another group of ARF members, mostly armed. It appeared that the other men had remained outside: Riza did not enjoy being surrounded. Drawing one pistol from a shoulder holster, she opened the car door and stepped outside, slamming it shut.

"Aww, Liz? Pulling guns on us already? That's not very friendly." Renata began their exchange, clearly pleased with herself for having somehow led to their obtainment of the Flame Alchemist.

"You haven't exactly given me much reason to trust you."

Riza surveyed the lackluster warehouse around her, perceiving the differences from the photos taken during their recon efforts. It was relatively well maintained, for an older building, with large windows situated in the upper half of the walls. Likely originally for light, they also provided Havoc and Becca with means to observe the action from their vantage points.

There were no catwalks above them, which Riza considered good fortune. The ARF had chosen a location with a full sprinkler system, probably in an effort to neutralize Roy to some extent. She also took note of places where more armed men could potentially be hiding. There were some large boxes and packing crates stacked in various places throughout the building, though what they contained was unclear. The ARF was at least intelligent enough to not have this meeting in the building filled with dangerous toys.

"If I recall, I'm not the one that's been sneaking up on people and threatening them at gunpoint."

"A bit salty about that, are you?" Riza smirked. "Enough with the pleasantries, Renata, show me my grandfather."

There was a shuffling sound from the far end of the warehouse, and two men pulled Grumman into view. His hands were tied and they had duct taped his mouth shut; he was too far away for her to discern wounds or bruises. The men escorted him toward the ARF group across from her.

"Well, Liz? I showed you mine." Riza again felt the incredibly strong urge to pistol whip the over-confident woman. _Go ahead, keep over-estimating your skills, Renata._

"Fair is fair, I suppose." Keeping her eye on the terrorist organization before her, she strode to the trunk of the vehicle, popping it open. Riza roughly pulled Roy from the car, none too gently guiding him forward with one hand gripping his upper arm and the other with her pistol at the ready. Once more positioned across from the other group, she reached above his head and whipped off the hood so they could see his face then stuck the muzzle of her gun in his abdomen. "Here's your Flame Alchemist. Satisfied?"

"Not quite yet, no" A mere moment after Renata spoke, the sprinkler system was activated and water rained down on them. With another smug smirk, Renata said, gesturing toward the sprinklers, "Just in case. I find things don't burn as easily when water is involved. Wouldn't you agree?" This last question was directed toward Roy, who simply glared at the woman.

"Let's get this over with, Renata."

"Sure thing, send him over."

"Oh, I think not. You've got me outnumbered. Send all your goons back to that far wall. You and Grumman, me and pretty-boy. That's how this'll work."

"Why don't we just shoot you now and take what we want?" At her words, the men behind her raised their firearms and aimed them at Riza.

In response, she raised her pistol to Roy's temple. "If anyone fires, I'll shoot him. Trust me, my bullet will reach its target first, and you're only hope for flame alchemy will be dead." She shrugged. "Feel free to see what he tells you then."

"Fine." Renata's voice was sharp and significantly less smug. The guys with guns backed up to the far wall of the building and Renata approached, holding a firearm to Grumman's stomach. She stopped a good distance away.

"Start him walking." When Renata hesitated, Riza lightly pushed Roy's head with her pistol as motivation.

Renata shoved Grumman in front of her, raising her pistol to aim at his back, and Riza did the same with Roy, receiving a glare from him. The two prisoners slowly advanced toward each other, watched carefully by the two women. In her ear, she heard the updates from the rest of the team: that the van was in position, that Havoc and Becca had a great view, etc. She saw her grandfather's eyes, pleading with her not to hand Mustang over. Riza kept her face an impassive mask, slipping her mind into that emotionless place that would allow her to be the sniper, the soldier.

Suddenly, several things happened in an extremely short amount of time. First, there were two explosions at the far end of the building, causing some of the militants to turn to address the distraction. Then Roy feigned a stumble, ripping his hands apart to break the cuffs and reached into his boot for the lighter. At the same time, Riza began walking forward, pistol trained on Renata, who began shouting at her backup.

Roy went into a roll and came up on the other side of Grumman, all the while activating the array to manipulate the oxygen atoms in the water molecules in the sprinkler system. Causing the pipes to burst, he rendered the system useless, effectively putting an end to their indoor rainstorm. At the sound of the pipes rupturing, more of the ARF men started to sprint back in their direction and gunshots began to ring out.

Riza caught Roy's glance and nodded, tossing him one of her firearms. He caught it, grabbed Grumman's arm and ran toward an imposing stack of crates with Riza providing cover as she ran in the same direction. She saw Renata raise her weapon and aim it at Roy and Grumman, who were still in the open. Lifting her own arm, she shot the woman's hand before she could pull the trigger: Renata's scream rent the air. From behind her, she could hear the men from outside entering the building after hearing the commotion.

"A little help, guys!" Riza said to her teammates, whipping around to face the new threats entering the area; she heard the tinkle of breaking glass and the pop of rifles, signaling Becca's and Havoc's efforts. The men were making a beeline for Roy and Grumman, who were blocked from the other militants, but still had some distance between them and full cover. With sharp eyes and a quick exhalation, she pulled the trigger three times and three thugs fell to the floor.

With more shots now aimed at her as well, she picked up her speed, popping off a few more rounds. She reached out a hand to grab the corner of a large shipping container and used her momentum to swing herself around the corner. Riza stood with her back to the shipping container and shared a glance with her grandfather as she quickly reloaded. That wise and wily look was on his face, as if he'd known what they were planning the entire time. After a quick smile to him, she peeked around the corner and squeezed off several shots to keep the militants at bay.

Havoc's voice came over the comm: "Looks like you're gonna have some more company soon."

Sharing a glance with Roy, she said, "Any new ideas for an exit?"

"Yeah. Can you cover this side for a minute?"

She nodded, they switched places, and Riza crouched, quickly throwing her arm around the corner and firing to keep the other men in place. More gunshots came from Roy's side, and then a small explosion followed by the crash of what must have been the vehicle they'd used to arrive in the first place. The destruction of the car was hardly finished when the sound of further explosions could be heard around the building. Apparently, Roy was utilizing the still dry innards of wooden packing crates to cause the blasts. To be safe, she fired around her corner once more and then reloaded as she spun to make sure Roy was covered. At his signal, the three of them stood against the shipping container, and he again ignited the lighter. She watched the trail of flame up until it caused the wall nearest them to shatter outward.

Riza pushed them ahead of her and walked quickly backwards after them, a pistol aimed to each side of the container they'd just abandoned. A figure in black popped up behind a crate and she fired, she again squeezed the trigger when a man ran across her field of vision on her right, two rapid shots and two ARF men who thought they could follow them were on the ground. Repeating this process as needed, she reached the gaping hole in the wall. She followed Roy and Grumman at a run in the direction of the van, cover fire provided by Havoc who was already at the van.

They were ahead of her and when she passed the corner of the building she broke into a sprint on seeing more ARF men headed their way. Next to their vehicle, she saw Roy pause, and then flames leapt from the lighter in his hand to form a temporary wall of fire, shielding them from view.

When she reached the van, she stopped next to Roy, holstering one weapon and catching her breath, while Grumman and the others hopped in. Roy had just dropped the veil when something caught her eye across the expanse of pavement between industrial buildings. Without realizing it, Riza turned slowly and took a step forward as she tried to understand what she was seeing.

Vaguely, she heard the team's voices shouting in her ear, asking her what was going on. She felt a hand grab her arm and raised her other hand to shield her eyes from the sun, focusing on the far edge of the open space. There was a black sedan with blacked-out windows parked at the corner of another warehouse. Outside it stood two men along with a woman with blonde hair, which happened to be rather rare in Aerugo. On top of that, the woman looked strikingly familiar.

"No fucking way," she muttered to herself.

"Liz!" Roy's voice was much closer this time and it yanked her thoughts back from the woman across the way. Her awareness fully returned to the immediate vicinity, she turned and pulled Roy to her, then spun them around while raising the pistol in her right hand in one motion. Riza pulled the trigger, and Renata fell where she stood, her uninjured arm extended, firearm in her hand.

They jumped in the van, slammed the door shut, and Roy shouted to Breda, "Get us the hell out of here!"

When she looked up she caught her grandfather's eye and they immediately embraced. They held onto each other as if for dear life, and Riza's vision wavered as her eyes filled with tears.

"My darling Riza," Grumman affectionately said, hastily looking around after recognizing his slip of the tongue.

She chuckled lightly. "It's ok, grandfather, they know. Liz is still my cover id, but they know." Riza paused as she hugged him. "I'm so glad you're ok." She pulled back to examine him with a critical eye. "Did they hurt you?"

"Not too badly, dear. I'm fine." He had his quintessentially Grumman smile on his face, which meant he was likely lying to make her feel better.

"Liar." She paused and then looked at him again, lowering her voice. "I have to know. It's _her_ , isn't it?"

Grumman looked at her for so long she thought he might not answer. Then, he merely nodded. Riza's jaw dropped open and she moved into a seated position, taking her grandfather's hand and squeezing it, letting a sharp laugh escape. It was a laugh devoid of any amusement but the most derisive, and she followed it up with, "Son of a…Well, go figure."

* * *

 **AN:** Hello everyone! I hope you've all had a great week. Thanks for reading, I hope you like it, and have a good one! :)


	22. Phase One: Take Down the Money Man

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **Phase One: Take Down the Money Man**

Roy sat in the chair nearest the couch in his bedroom and waited for Grumman to tell them anything he was willing to tell about what happened while he was held prisoner by the ARF. For the moment, it was just him, Grumman and Riza: he could fill the rest of the team in on anything they needed to know. The General had obviously been through quite an ordeal and Roy, along with Riza, had decided it would be best not to overwhelm him.

He watched as Riza shared a look with her grandfather, and then met his own eyes. She appeared to be agitated, which puzzled him slightly seeing as they had just rescued her grandfather. Roy had expected relief or joy, not anxiety. He recalled her quietly asking Grumman something when they were in the van in the middle of their getaway and wondered if her agitation had anything to do with that.

"Well, my boy," Grumman began. "I won't bore you with each and every detail. They, of course, questioned me about you both and I didn't give them anything. I may be old, but I'm still tough." He paused to take another drink of water. "As far as anything I've learned of their plans, unfortunately it's not much. They were very careful around me but I know they were intending to hit something big. Now that you've escaped I'm not sure what they'll do. We should act fast, in any case."

Roy nodded his agreement. "From what we've heard of their conversations and observed in their movements, their first target appears to be someone or something at the governor's palace in this city. It is the representative of the monarchy in the southern half of the country. We believe they have an individual on the inside, too."

Grumman crossed his arms and his eyes wandered as he thought. "That would make sense if they were trying to destabilize the government. They could take this city and work their way up. I'm not sure how they planned to do all that, however, because they aren't a very large organization."

"That's why I don't believe they plan to actually take the city. From what I can tell, they basically intended to assassinate several prominent members of the government, including the king, and then insert someone under their influence into the vacated positions of power." After a slight pause, Roy added, "We have some ideas for putting the ARF out of commission for good."

"As Riza and I know well," Grumman gestured toward his granddaughter. "…they cover their tracks expertly. It's the only way they've survived this long without being destroyed by the monarchy."

At this point, Riza chimed in: "We have taken steps to _un_ cover their trail somewhat." Turning back to Roy, she said, "But there's another surprise, Roy."

"Ah…yes," Grumman said, hesitating, and Roy saw a sadness overtake him that he'd never seen in the General. Whatever this news was, he was not overly pleased about it. Grumman sighed and gazed at his hands which were laced together in his lap. Roy noticed that Riza had already given him his ring back. Grumman looked at Riza and said, "You go ahead, dear."

Riza placed a hand on her grandfather's arm and nodded. "Roy, do you remember when I told you that my mother didn't actually die? That she ran off with some young Aerugonian guy she'd fallen in love with?" She watched for his response, her face returning to the mask he'd come to know so well and could read like a book.

"Yeah," he nodded, his voice inflecting upward and a questioning look overtaking his face. Roy could discern both pain and anger in her eyes.

"Well…," Riza sighed and cleared her throat. "She's what I saw by the black sedan. And grandfather says she was at some of his interrogations." Her eyes left his and danced around the room for a few seconds before returning to his face as she again exhaled. " _She_ is the reason the ARF is after flame alchemy."

Roy stared at Riza and Grumman, mouth slightly open, as he digested what she'd just told him. He could not imagine how painful this must be for both the individuals in front of him. However, taking into account everything that had happened, it made sense. The ARF could not have discovered so much about Berthold Hawkeye and flame alchemy any other way. All he could manage to say was, " _What_?" Roy caught Riza's gaze and held it.

Riza merely nodded and Grumman said, "It's true. I was surprised to see her, to say the least." He chuckled half-heartedly. "I didn't think I was _that_ terrible a father that my own daughter would aid in my kidnapping." His attempt at a joke did not have its desired effect of lightening the mood.

"You _weren't_ , grandfather. Don't think like that." She patted her grandfather's arm sympathetically. "You took care of me, and I turned out ok. It's not your fault I had exceptionally shitty parents."

Grumman's response was to place his own hand over that of his granddaughter and give her a small smile of gratitude for her support. He then said, "My apologies, you two, but you must excuse me. I think I need another nap before our little planning party this evening." He lightly patted his granddaughter's hand, stood, and walked toward the door. Riza gave Roy a small smile and then rose to follow Grumman from the room, asking quietly if there was anything he needed.

Left alone, Roy took to pacing his bedroom, contemplating what would be the best way for them to proceed now that they'd finally rescued Grumman. They could not leave Aerguo with the ARF entirely intact and capable of coming after them again. Roy's hand clenched into a fist: with what Grumman had been through, and Riza being alive and a potential target, the only option he saw was to incapacitate the ARF completely.

He was in the process of running through in his mind various snippets of information they had gleaned from their surveillance when he heard a soft knock at his door. Roy was surprised he even heard it being so lost in his thoughts and planning. He had not expected anyone for quite some time seeing as the majority of the team was out keeping an eye on the enemy and completing a few tasks set them.

"Come in," he said toward the door and then a moment later he heard it open. When he looked up he saw Riza enter and close the door behind her. When she walked toward him he added, "I thought you'd be with Grumman. Everything ok?"

She came to a stop facing the window, arms crossed, and the smile on her face revealed the relief she felt that her grandfather was back with them. Riza nodded and said, "Yeah, he's fine. I took some food and water to his room, and we talked for a little while, but he wanted to sleep. And I can't blame him." She glanced around, apparently just realizing he'd been standing in the middle of the room when she walked in. "I didn't want to disturb him so I thought I'd come see if you needed a sounding board. I figured you'd already be running through ideas, and it seems I was right."

"I'm fine here," he shrugged one shoulder. "I have some ideas, but we can talk about it later at the meeting. I want to see what else the team finds out today anyway."

Roy caught her eye and when they shared a smile he felt a light flush creep up his face. He was in that moment excruciatingly aware that he was alone in his bedroom with the woman that had been driving him crazy for years. He moved toward her and pulled her into his embrace, resting the side of his head against hers, and asked softly, "Are _you_ ok?"

Riza nodded against him. "I knew she left us. I just never imagined she'd come after flame alchemy and kidnap her own father in the process." He felt her shrug. "I wish I was more surprised. I'm mostly furious that she put you, grandfather, and Becca in danger."

Roy chuckled lightly. "I appreciate how protective of us you are."

"Well someone has to be with you three and your penchant for getting into trouble."

She looked up at him with a smile, her arms now looped around his waist, and it was suddenly incredibly warm in that room. Roy's skin was on fire and he felt as though the air molecules were pressing in around him, he could no longer hear anything else. It was just him with Riza.

The smile slowly slid from her face and she bit her lip. Without another word she disentangled herself from him and turned away, treading toward the door. The lock clicked and she faced him once more, walking in his direction. Her eyes never left his and he noticed the sway of her hips, the way she ran a hand through her hair; his pulse raced just watching her.

Riza placed her hands on his waist, tracking them around to his back and looping her arms around him once more. He ran his hands up her sides and glanced down at her lips then back to her eyes. One hand continued to her back while the other rose to cup her face, angling it up toward his. In a beat, Roy closed the distance between their lips and felt her soft ones against his own, causing a wave of heat to wash over him. He'd dreamt about her since he left, remembered that last time in bittersweet flashes; his heart was pounding.

His hand lightly curled a lock of hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek with his thumb. Their kiss deepened and Roy felt her grip tighten around his waist, hands splayed on his back, her body pressed up against his. His own arm, still wrapped around her waist, unconsciously squeezed in response to the feel of her. Before he knew it, and he did not recall moving, Riza was falling back onto the bed and pulling him down with her.

Roy could feel her fingers slowly and deliberately brushing the skin of his chest as she unbuttoned his shirt and tore it open, pushing it off his shoulders. He pushed himself up for a moment, let the shirt fall off his arms, and tossed it aside. Leaning back down he kissed her again, molding their bodies together. Riza's hands hungrily traveled over the bare skin of his abdomen, leaving a tingle in their wake. His own hand found her knee near his hip and roved up her thigh to her waist. There it trailed along her side and around her back to pull her even closer; he rolled them over.

They explored each other, reveling in what felt simultaneously familiar and brand new. Rapid breaths quickened further and every contact of their skin caused a shock to pulse through him. His fingertips practically sparked as they toyed briefly with the rim of her pants and then slipped under the hem of her top and pushed it up. Roy followed the curve of her waist with one hand while the other entangled itself in her hair, grazing his lips along her neck, her collarbone. He saw her bite her lip and reclaimed it with a kiss. He felt a lingering burn where her hands ghosted over his body; he was losing himself.

They paused long enough to look each other in the eye; a wordless, though likely unnecessary, inquiry. Riza's response was to roll them over again, reaching her hands toward his waist, and loosen his belt then unbutton his pants. She held his gaze, and wore the sexiest smirk he'd ever seen. He grinned as he pulled her top off completely, their lips met again, and they were lost to the world.

Later, Riza lay sleeping with her head on his chest and her arm slung over his stomach. Roy held her close, as if he thought she might disappear again if he let go of her; but that that sounded ridiculous. She must have been awake and aware of the tension he felt; her arm tightened its hold on his stomach.

He squeezed back and kissed the top of her head. Glancing at the clock, he saw they still had a few hours before everyone would be back and they would have their meeting. He set an alarm and let himself drift off.

* * *

Riza left her bedroom and slowly descended the steps that led toward the kitchen, a smile of contentment on her face. She'd checked on her grandfather and he was still in a deep sleep that she did not want to interrupt. She knew he would never tell her everything that happened to him, but Riza also knew he'd been through more than he let on. He did not want her to worry, and she appreciated that, but it did not mean she would not worry anyway.

She reached the foot of the stairs and turned right into the kitchen, stopping dead almost immediately having walked in on Havoc and Becca in the middle of a kiss. _That kind of thing is apparently going around today._ Her footsteps startled them and they looked up at her, eyes wide with self-conscious grins on their red faces. Hands up, Riza backed quickly out of the kitchen saying, with a chuckle, "Sorry, guys…I'll just…go over this way for no reason in particular."

Becca's laugh stopped her. "No, Riza, it's ok. Jean was just going to take a shower." She turned her attention back to Havoc. "Weren't you, Jean?"

Riza walked back toward the kitchen and leaned against the door frame.

"Indeed I was." Havoc nodded at her as he walked by and climbed the stairs toward the bed and bathrooms.

She looked at her friend and the ridiculous grin on her face, pushing off the wall to rummage in the fridge for something to drink. She settled on iced tea. "You sure you don't want to just join him already?"

"You're feisty today." Rebecca grabbed a drink and the two women exited the kitchen to sit next to the fire pit on the beach behind the house. "And yeah, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't mind that. But not with all these people around now. By the way, Heymans and Vato should be back soon."

"Ok," Riza nodded, trying to wipe her own stupid grin off of her face, otherwise her far too observant friend would notice. She _always_ noticed these things. "So you two are…?"

"Yeah, I think so." Becca grinned and laughed, shaking her head at herself.

Riza took a drink of her iced tea ad nudged her with her elbow. "I'm happy for you. He's a good guy…And I'm sure he's a better dancer than Dave."

Becca burst into laughter and they again mimicked Dave's ridiculous dance moves, to the best of their ability while remaining seated. "Ya know, Mr. Hottie You-Know-What is a pretty good guy too…Even if his ego's a little too bloated for his own good."

It was Riza's turn to laugh. "Way to give a compliment and then turn it into a dig."

"It's my specialty." Becca took a drink and then added, "It was really cute how you kept trying to tell me nothing happened between you two. I _always_ know these things, Riza. _Always._ You know that." She paused again. "Seriously, though, if he hurts you again, I'll kill him."

Riza bumped their shoulders together and smiled at her as a gesture of appreciation. "Thanks. But you won't have to cuz I'd do it myself."

"I believe it." They sat in silence for a couple minutes, enjoying the calm of the beach. "Crap, it's so _beautiful_ here. Why is there a war with this country again? The brass should just vacation here. Boom. War over."

Riza chuckled. "It really is gorgeous. And it's because the brass likes to fight anything that breathes. It's apparently their thing."

"Sure seems like it." Becca took another sip of her tea. "How's gramps?"

"Don't let _grandfather_ hear you call him that," Riza laughed. "He's resting. I've looked in on him a few times and he seems to be doing alright. When he wakes up he needs to eat."

"Yeah, when I examined him he seemed slightly malnourished. No life-threatening injuries though, thank goodness." Rebecca sighed, giving a shake of her head. "I can't _believe_ I let him get kidnapped in the first place."

"Hey now, Becca, it wasn't your fault." Riza put her arm around her friend's shoulders. "There was no way you could have known."

"I know, but I still feel guilty."

"I know. I get it, because I do too. But now he's back and we're in this beautiful place so let's relax before we have to go back inside and talk about serious things." She gave Becca's shoulders another squeeze and then pulled her arm back.

"Good idea." Becca took another drink, sticking her toes in the sand before her. She cast a glance in Riza's direction and said, "You're a little more smiley than usual today. What's up?"

"Nothing. I'm just happy to have grandfather back." She shrugged.

When Riza couldn't stop the flush creeping onto her cheeks, Becca salt bolt upright and said, "Oh my god, you _didn't_ …"

Riza grinned and shook her head, taking a drink to distract from the flush still invading her face. "I don't know _what_ you're talking about."

"You _did_! Check you out… _Details, please_." Rebecca watched her expectantly.

The brunette shook her head. "Absolutely not." She then added, "Why is it that I can hide _anything_ from _anyone_ except you and Roy?"

"Kinda nice, isn't it? I guess we just _get_ you. Too bad." Becca shrugged a shoulder, a pleased grin on her face.

"Freakin' frustrating is what it is." But Riza chuckled with a smile.

It was Becca's turn to nudge her with her shoulder. "You love it." She lowered her voice. "You've been different ever since this mission with him started. And now you're happy. A kind of happy I haven't seen the entire time I've known you. If he does that, I'm cool with him."

Riza tossed a glance and a smile in her friend's directions then looked back out over the ocean. "It's sort of terrifying that someone can affect me that much. I'm so good at keeping an even keel."

"I get it. But it's a good terrifying, and life is short. Go with it."

"When did you get so wise?"

"I was born this way." The two women laughed and then turned around when they heard the kitchen door that led to the deck opening and closing.

"Hey ladies, it's time." Havoc told them throwing a wink at Becca who smirked in return. When they nodded that they understood he returned to the kitchen, the door clicking closed behind him.

They rose and started walking toward the stairs up to the back deck. "You two are adorable," Riza told her.

"Shut up. I don't think you can talk anymore." They laughed again and went inside for the team meeting.

* * *

The following evening, Roy stood in a brightly lit ballroom next to the bar wearing an extremely well-cut suit. Elegant chandeliers hung from the ceiling, candles adorned the tables, and brilliantly dressed couples glided around the dance floor like swans on the surface of a lake. He took a sip from his glass of whiskey and glanced around at the other party-goers.

Fuery's voice sounded through his earpiece, "Target's ETA, five minutes." followed by a series of "Copy" and "Roger that."

"We have a clear path upstairs when the time comes," came Riza's voice.

Roy turned his gaze to the grand double doors that opened into the ballroom of the governmental palace in Anissi. He was just in time to catch Riza's entrance and, for him at least, she stole the show. Her hair was swept up in a sophisticated yet simple style, and she looked absolutely stunning in her floor-length gown. A small black purse was clutched in her left hand to keep her right hand free to reach for a pistol.

She caught his eye, gave him a smile which he returned, and walked toward him. The slit in her dress revealed a tantalizing leg with every other step. When she arrived, he put a hand on her arm and leaned forward under the guise of greeting her with a kiss on the cheek. Softly so no one else would hear, he whispered in the ear without a communication device, "You look lovely."

Riza smiled fully and Roy thought he saw a blush tinge her cheeks. Their private exchange was interrupted by Becca's voice, "Target has arrived. He should reach you in sixty seconds."

The two shared a look and Roy said, "Would you care for a drink?"

"Yes, thank you," Riza replied, letting their team know they'd heard the update and were ready. Their target this evening was an official in the Aerugonian government who also happened to be the man who handled the ARF's finances. He frequently laundered ARF money and, employing his wiles and questionable ethics, found additional funds for their cause. Removing him from the equation would substantially cripple the ARF.

Roy and Riza moved off to one side, keeping an eye on the Money Man and waiting. Mr. Angelo often enjoyed the company of prostitutes and had arranged with an escort service for a young woman to join him. The team intended to use this against him in order to compromise his financial, social, and political standing. As they watched Angelo move about the room, a woman on each arm, Roy muttered, "Ok, we need to get a recording of the transaction."

Riza glanced at him and took something from her clutch, tucking it between two fingers. "I have an idea. Care to dance?"

Roy nodded with a grin and gently took her hand to lead her out onto the dance floor. Having an idea of what her objective might be, he found an open space on the floor and pulled her close, clasping one of her hands with his and resting his other at her back. As they joined in the waltz taking place, with her so near him again, his mind inevitably jumped back to the day before in his bedroom. Shaking his head, he focused on the moment, on the target, on the woman dancing with him, and smiled.

Slowly, he guided them through the couples and eventually came in close proximity to Mr. Angelo. Turning Riza away from him, she went into a fluid spin. Bumping into Angelo, she grabbed onto his jacket as if steadying herself, at which point she deftly adhered a small listening device under the lapel. Roy came up behind her as Riza quickly apologized in Aerugonian, saying something which caused the other man to chuckle.

When they rejoined the dance and distanced themselves from the target, Roy asked, "What did you say to him?"

"I apologized and told him that you'd just learned to dance and messed up the spin. He said he could tell…that you didn't seem very graceful." Through the earpiece Roy heard a chorus of laughter from the other team members.

" _Me_?! How could…? My waltz has been perfect. That was all you, _Liz_." It was clear that Riza was trying to bite back her own humorous smile as they left the dance floor.

"Don't worry, boss, I think you're nimble as a damn wood nymph," Havoc chimed in, causing another outburst of mirth from the others.

Grumman's voice surged through the comms, "Alright, children, focus…Twinkle Toes, make sure you're recording that bug. And next time, I pick the handles."

"Again with the call signs," Roy muttered as he looked down at his glass. "They're not _that_ bad."

He felt a hand squeeze his upper arm and glanced at Riza who gave him a small smile and quietly said, "He's on the move."

"Cameraman in position," Falman added.

Roy exited the ballroom with Riza on his arm and they took a pre-determined route up to the floor where Angelo's office could be found to make sure the man entered his office. At a phone in an isolated vestibule, Riza dialed the number for the local police. In frantic and tense Aerugonian she explained to them how Mr. Angelo, an important and powerful government official, had been taken hostage and directed up to his office at gunpoint. No, she did not think anyone else had seen. Of course, she would get to a safe place and wait for them.

A few minutes later, they used a back exit to leave the building and made their way over to the van they had parked on a side street where Breda and Havoc awaited them. Falman began giving them updates from his vantage point: the police arrived and secured the scene, cautiously making their way up to Angelo's office. Through the bug still attached to the Money Man's jacket they heard the office phone ring in the background of other far more inappropriate sounds. From the moans, the police must have assumed the official to be in danger because a few moments later the door was kicked in.

"Ok, police streaming into the office…They definitely caught him with his pants down," Falman told them. "His hands are up, he's backing away and it looks like he's shouting."

"Yeah," Riza added. "He's asking if they know who he is."

"The officer in charge just walked in…I think he just got the message." Fuery had sent an untraceable electronic message to the commanding officer of the responding unit. It included a recording of the transaction between Angelo and the young woman along with a few explicit photos that left no doubt that solicitation had occurred. Basically, everything necessary to get Angelo out of the way long enough to cripple the ARF so it could be demolished completely.

It seemed as though everything was going according to plan: the officer in charge was processing the arrest of Angelo, the young woman was being taken for questioning, and the scene was being cleared since it was no longer a hostage situation. Some policemen were already leaving the governor's palace.

"They just called into dispatch to let them know they're bringing someone in," Riza informed them.

Around the time Falman joined them in the van they heard Angelo speaking to someone in the background. "Shit," Riza said as she strained to listen. "I can't hear him, too much happening...Now the officer is definitely talking to someone higher up the chain of command." Roy saw her eyes gaze at nothing in particular as she focused on picking out whatever she could.

Another minute later, police officers began streaming out of the same rear exit that Roy and Riza had used a short time before. After many of the lower ranking officers had left, the officer in charge exited with Angelo, the woman, and another officer following behind him. The first policeman turned, and they watched him shake hands with Angelo and laugh at something the Money Man had said.

"What the _fuck_?" Roy asked under his breath then shared a glance with Riza. His eyes grew wide as he saw Angelo hand the woman an envelope and, after saying something to her, she walked casually away. The police officers again shook hands with Angelo and then also left, getting in their vehicle and driving away. With a last look around the area, Mr. Angelo re-entered the building and was out of their sight.

When Roy again caught Riza's gaze he could see the surprise in her face as well. Over their communication devices he could hear other members of the team wondering what the hell had just happened.

"Well, we seriously underestimated his contacts," Riza observed. " _Shit_. It barely took him five minutes to weasel his way out."

"We'll just have to give them something they can't ignore, then," Roy commented, leaning against the side of the van, arms crossed in concentration. "Take us home, Genius 2."

* * *

 **AN:** Hello! I hope you like the chapter. Thanks for reading and have a good one! :)


	23. Phase One, Take Two: All the Marbles

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

 **AN:** Hello everyone! I would like to offer my apologies for posting so late this week. I've been doing thesis things and my brain decided to go kaput for a little while. Anyway, sorry I'm late! I should be on time for the next post.

* * *

 **Phase One, Take Two: All the Marbles**

Riza shifted in the uncomfortable navy blue uniform as she and Havoc made their way through the lower levels of the governmental palace of Anissi. The fabric was scratchy, it was a touch small, and she was only able to bring _one_ pistol; long story short, she was really not a fan. On her right Havoc pushed a janitorial cart complete with buckets, mop, broom, dustpan, and various dangerous cleaning chemicals. They kept to the areas of the palace reserved for employees and moved quickly. It was the middle of the night and few people were there, but they did not want to risk the discovery of the keycards they'd used to enter.

As she walked, Riza looked around her, admiring the overall splendor of the palace, which had been the seat of a different monarchy before this region became part of Aerugo. She shook her head in awe; even this area, which would have been rarely used by nobility, was decorated with frescos, filigrees, and marble. She now understood why the rest of the palace was so terrifically luxurious and wondered how a nation clearly wealthy was taken over by Aerugo in the first place. Riza idly tugged once more at the janitor's uniform she wore and decided to untuck the shirt; it was driving her crazy.

"Hey, Liz," Havoc said. "Have I ever told you I like a lady in uniform?" He winked good-naturedly.

"You hear that, Mango? He likes the ladies in janitor jumpsuits."

Becca's sudden laughter burst through their comms. "Yeeeeah…as long as it's a slutty janitor. Are you looking particularly slutty at the moment, Liz?"

"I do try," Riza replied.

"Or a slutty nurse…" Breda said, his voice sounding tinny over the earpiece. "…mostly cuz of that one chick he dated. What was her name? Patricia? Man, she was hot…"

"Dude!" Havoc cut in. "Not. Helping."

"You sorta dug your own grave on this one, man," Breda chuckled.

"Well, Mango, it sounds like as long as the word 'slutty' is in there somewhere you're golden."

"Big surprise there," Becca said.

Grumman's voice suddenly came over the comms. "You all sound like a mildly dysfunctional family more than anything. It's a wonder you get anything done."

"Mornin' gramps, what's shakin?" Becca greeted him.

"I warned her about the 'gramps' thing," Riza interjected.

"What?! It's the _perfect_ handle." Becca laughed at something Grumman said which they could not hear.

Riza and Havoc reached the door to Mr. Angelo's office and she interrupted their teammates' chatter saying, "We're there." She reached into a concealed portion of their cart and retrieved a small, black rectangle.

"Ok, Kiwi, take the box I gave you and hold it up to the door." She did as Fuery requested and tapped the button on the side as he'd explained to her previously. After a few seconds, he said, "I'm not getting any readings but I'll activate the box and send out an EMP anyway, just in case he has any equipment in there I'm not picking up. It will knock out any electronics in its radius for a half-hour, including your comms."

"I'm so disappointed," Havoc added.

"Alright guys, see you in thirty," Fuery said. "Three…two..."

Both Riza and Havoc removed their earpieces before Fuery reached 'one' to avoid and potentially painful feedback. A second later, she held it back up to her ear and not even static could be heard; evidence that the electromagnetic pulse had done its job. Dropping the earpiece into her pocket, she tried the door handle and discovered it was locked. Havoc knelt in front of it and pulled a lock-pick set from one of his pockets.

When she heard the click of the catch releasing, she threw one last glance down the hallway and opened the door, allowing Havoc to push their cart inside and then following him. She shut the door behind them and Havoc was already removing more concealed items from the cart: a USB drive with various electronic files, a hard-copy file, another file folder for the filing cabinet, various sheets of paper, as well as a letter that appeared to be from the government's internal financial review department.

Riza took the items meant for her. "Thanks. So…who was Patricia?" She set to work mixing some loose pages in with the papers on the desktop.

Havoc chuckled as he approached the filing cabinet. "A woman I dated for a while when we were stationed in Central. Then I came here." After another moment he added, "It wasn't going to work out anyway." He leafed through various folders, looking for the right place to plant theirs.

"Why's that? If you don't mind my asking."

"She was sleeping around while we were dating. Needless to say, I didn't appreciate that." He tried another drawer in the cabinet.

"I'm sorry to hear that. You deserve better." She slipped their falsified letter into the middle of a pile of correspondence.

"Thanks."

She shrugged. "I just call it as I see it." Riza checked the time and started her search for Angelo's safe.

"Still, thanks." He finished with the filing cabinet just as she found the safe behind a painting on the wall. She removed the artwork, leaned it against the wall, and set her file and USB on top of the cabinet next to her. He then added, "How are you planning on opening the safe?"

"By touch." She eyed the safe before her.

"Where'd you learn that? Sniper training?"

Riza chuckled lightly. "No, just the same place you learned to pick locks."

"Fair enough," Havoc replied with a grin.

She set to work, grabbing a pen and small pad from her pocket and occasionally writing down numbers. When she finally thought she had the correct combination, she looked at Havoc and said, "I haven't done this for a while, so…moment of truth." Riza grasped the handle and turned it, hearing a satisfying click that proved she had indeed unlocked the safe.

With a nod Havoc said, "Whew…nicely done."

Riza grinned. "Thanks."

"I just call 'em like I see 'em." They both laughed at his mimicking of her earlier phrase.

She tucked their hardcopy file in with some other folders in the safe and stuck the USB drive somewhere it would be seen. They were monitoring Angelo and would make sure the government's friendly neighborhood auditors were the first people to enter this office the next day. They had kindly scheduled Mr. Angelo for a review of his personal finances as well as the finances he handled for the monarchy and had now planted numerous documents tying him in no uncertain terms to a terrorist organization. _Just try and get out of this one, Angelo._

Riza closed the safe, making sure it locked properly, and spun the dial back to the number she found it on, just to be safe. Since they both wore gloves, they did not need to wipe down everything they'd touched. "This guy is going to have a fucking _horrendous_ day tomorrow, and that makes me weirdly happy."

Havoc laughed as they checked the office and made sure everything appeared as it had when they'd arrived. "Me too, Riza. Me too."

They grabbed their cart and exited the office, still with time to spare on their thirty minutes, and Havoc locked the door behind them. As if they belonged, they traveled various corridors and an elevator to find themselves once again in the lower levels of the palace. Returning the cart and the keycards they'd 'borrowed,' they slipped out a rear door and into the night.

* * *

Later that same morning, though this time there was daylight, Riza sat on the roof of a warehouse near the ARF's building. The rifle was fully assembled and she was gazing through the scope, having already decided on the best vantage point. Her perch was a full story taller than the ARF's storage facility and she had a perfect view of two main entrances as well as a large garage door. Becca was positioned on top of the edifice immediately to her left, and Havoc was with Roy on the ground at the back corner of her building. Grumman, Breda and Fuery were manning their van, which was parked at a safe distance and had been turned into something much like a mobile surveillance unit.

Riza could hear Roy's voice over the comms: "All positions, check-in."

She then heard her teammates' one after the other, "Mango, in position…Twinkle Toes, in position…Genius 2, in position… _Gramps_ , in position…Genius 1, in position…Loverboy, in position."

Finally, she added her own check-in, "Kiwi, in position."

"Ok, everybody, you know what to do," Roy said. "Let's end the bastards."

A few minutes of radio silence passed in which the team waited for the moment until the remainder of their plan would be set in motion. Fuery's voice could be heard once more, "I'm getting something."

"Alright, Twinkle Toes, patch it over to Kiwi," Roy ordered.

Riza listened intently to the feeds Fuery had designated her communication device to receive since everything spoken was in Aerugonian. Her mind was calm and attentive, allowing her vision to focus on the building before her while keeping her ears perked for any useful information.

After she had heard enough Riza updated the rest of the team. "They're taking the bait on Angelo. The police are arresting him at this moment and he'll be charged with multiple counts each of fraud, money laundering, racketeering, and treason…among other things. The accounts have already been frozen."

"Perfect. Twinkle Toes, time for me to call Genius 1 and his payphone," Roy responded.

"Copy that…calling now."

"Everyone else maintain radio silence as a precaution. The ARF taps that phone." He paused and after a few rings Falman answered the telephone, at which point Roy spoke again. "Genius 1, plan is a go."

"Why are you calling me here?! It could be traced!" Falman did his best to sound anxious.

"I had no choice. Don't worry, we'll be fine. Make the call."

Falman hung up the phone and a few moments later dialed the Anissi police and Fuery routed the call to their team. Riza and Falman had the following scripted exchanged in Aerugonian:

" _Anissi emergency response_ ," Riza said as if answering the phone call.

Falman did his best to sound frantic while still pronouncing as correctly as possible a language he did not know well. " _Yeah…Oh, shit…My car broke down, ok…and I walked into this building in the warehouse district looking for help. But, there wasn't anybody there…It was just_ _full_ _of guns, lady. And…and I saw lots of boxes labeled as explosives. And there was definitely blood on the floor. Look, I don't know what the hell's going on there, but somebody should check it out._ "

" _Alright, sir. Are you in a safe place?_ " Riza employed her best authoritative and calm dispatcher voice.

" _What?...Yeah, I ran out right away and came to the nearest phone. Please send someone!_ "

" _I need your location, sir_."

" _Oh, right, it's…ah…5086 Via del Duomo._ "

" _Thank you, sir, I'll send officers to you immediately._ " Riza could already discern increased activity within the ARF warehouse; evidently their ruse was having the intended effect.

" _Thank you! Please hurry._ "

" _Stay where you are, sir. I'll have officers to you soon._ "

She heard the click of Falman hanging up the payphone and knew that he would then be heading toward the van. That vehicle would be the team's rendezvous point once they were satisfied that their plan had succeeded. Everyone would meet at the van in order to return to the safe house and make preparations for their departure.

"Not bad, Genius 1," Riza told him. His performance was by no means award worthy, but he'd sounded fluent enough to make a believable police call.

"Thanks," he replied. "The run-throughs helped."

"Lots of activity on the airwaves now, guys," Fuery's voice once more burst through the comms.

"More here too," Becca said from her vantage point. "The bastards are coming out of the woodwork."

"Patching you in now, Kiwi," Fuery came back on.

"Ok, got it." After a pause to listen, Riza spoke again. "They're freaking out…can't get ahold of Angelo. They found out he was arrested…and about the accounts…They just gave the all-hands-on-deck order to move everything in the warehouse and regroup in a month."

"Alright, everyone…this is our shot," Roy added. "Twinkle Toes, trigger the device…Kiwi, time for your next performance."

Riza heard more ringing on her earpiece followed by an explosion at the far end of the ARF warehouse. It was an explosion conveniently small and far enough away from the goods in the building to keep it from being completely decimated. After a couple rings, she had another conversation in Aerugonian; this time it was real, and actually with the police.

" _Anissi emergency response_ ," said a male voice over the line.

" _Oh my god! Oh my god! The building…it just..._ " Riza shouted, ensuring that anxiety and fear carried through in her voice.

" _Please keep calm, ma'am. What happened?_ "

" _This building…in the warehouse district…oh my god…it just blew up! There was an explosion!_ " She made sure to breathe heavily, as if she was running away from the warehouse.

" _Where are you, ma'am?_ "

" _It's on fire!_ "

" _Ma'am, I need your location…are you somewhere safe?_ " The dispatcher's voice became slightly more forceful, trying to get her to respond.

" _Yes…yes, it's at 5086 Via del Duomo. Please, hurry!_ "

" _I'll send officers right away, ma'am. Are there any injured?_ "

" _I…I don't know. Please hurry, it's still burning._ "

" _Officers will be there soon, ma'am._ "

" _Thank you…thank you._ "

The call ended and through her scope Riza observed all the activity of the ARF men in and around the warehouse. People were running around and cars were already arriving along with a large truck marked with a construction company's decal.

"Nicely done, Kiwi," Roy told her. She smiled slightly at the sound of his voice, quickly tamping down her reaction to return to her 'sniper face,' as she called it.

"Thanks," she replied. "All in a day's work."

From that moment on they watched the organization before them and awaited their opportunity, giving each other occasional updates as they went. The ARF men were loading up trucks as quickly as possible, watched over by their superiors. Just as she heard the sirens approaching, still rather quiet so she knew they were yet some distance away, all hell broke loose on the ground below her. The ARF members burst into an even greater flurry of activity, and then Riza saw them.

"Targets acquired, by the left-most truck," she told the team. "Both the blonde and the ringleader are here."

"Anissi Police two minutes out, guys," Fuery added.

"Ok, Mango, Kiwi, go ahead," Roy told them.

Riza took a breath and fired several well-aimed shots, deflating the tires of the ARF's trucks. To her left, she heard Becca popping of shots as well to debilitate the other vehicles so no member of the terrorist organization could escape. She shielded herself behind the wall as her actions caused various agents on the ground to aim for her. The police were closing in, and now the ARF was frantic, having no way out. Some tried to run as their superiors did their best to rein them in, using the now immobile vehicles as cover for when the police arrived.

After a couple minutes the sound of screeching tires and more shouts indicated that law enforcement and the fire department had indeed arrived. The ARF agents and warehouse were surrounded as numerous police officers jumped from their seats and knelt behind their car doors. The officer in charge could be heard shouting through a megaphone in Aerugonian: _We are responding to reports of an explosion at this location. Surrender your weapons!_

Riza could see the members of the ARF continuing to run to various locations, deliberating amongst themselves. The police officers were making preparations of their own to counteract the position taken by the organization. The officer in charge again spoke: _I repeat, drop your weapons! This will go much easier for you if you do. Weapons on the ground and hands behind your heads!_

Suddenly, a shot sounded and Riza could not be sure from which side it came. "Who the hell fired that shot?" she shouted to the rest of her team.

"No idea," Becca replied.

The lead police officer was shouting at his men to hold fire but the ARF members began firing in earnest, and the police had no choice but to defend themselves. The ringleader of the ARF joined in with his men and, at a moment when he was left unguarded, a police bullet struck him. There was nothing but chaos on the ground before them and Riza's jaw went slack, eyes widening when she saw her mother fall. Blood blossomed on her abdomen and, while she had not seen the woman for over twenty years, Riza realized she'd just watched her die. "Holy shit," she muttered.

"Kiwi…did you just see…?" Becca quietly asked.

"Ahh…yeah…Ringleader and the blonde are down." Of the other team members, she had told only Becca that her mother was involved.

Roy's urgent voice burst through their comms, "Everyone, rendezvous at the van. We have to leave, now!"

There was a sequence of each team member responding with, "Copy," and Riza quickly disassembled her rifle. She threw it in the bag, picked up the pistol she always kept to hand when in a perch, and ran for the door to the stairs at the back corner of the building. Descending quickly, she paused only briefly at the door to listen for anyone outside. Satisfied that there was not, she carefully pushed the door open and exited into the alley behind the warehouse.

Becca met her there a few moments later and both women sprinted down another alley in the direction of their van. Riza had her pistol at the ready in the event they ran into any police officers or ARF agents. Fortunately, no other individuals had ventured into this portion of the warehouse district and they reached their vehicle without problems.

They climbed into the back and she saw that her grandfather was, not surprisingly, upset at the news that his daughter was dead. She gave him a sympathetic smile and pulled him into a hug, which Becca joined. Riza gazed at the side of the van she faced, feeling rather strange. She could not say she was particularly sad, seeing as the woman had been out of her life for around twenty years. It was an odd, hollow feeling: her mother was dead, and she'd watched it happen.

Riza could vaguely hear Roy in the background saying, "Good work, everyone. The threat of the ARF has been neutralized." She caught his eye and his look told her everything would be fine. She gave him a small smile because, in spite of some of the day's events, for the first time she really believed it.

* * *

 **AN:** Thank you for reading and I hope you like the chapter! Have a good one! :)

P.S. I'm nearly ready to begin posting again on my other story.


	24. One Week Later

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

* * *

 **One Week Later**

Riza followed the paved walkway leading up to her grandfather's house and let herself in using her copy of his key. She set her purse on the kitchen counter, retrieving a small package from it, and climbed the stairs to his study. Tossing the bundle on his desktop she sat down across from him and said, "Ya know, for a while there I was worried I'd never see you at this desk again."

Grumman picked up the parcel and began to remove its paper wrapping. "Now, now, Riza. Let's not talk like that. I'm back, and I plan to stay." He gave her a small smile which changed to an expression of slight surprise when he saw the money, fake ID, and pistol in the package he'd just opened. "I wondered where all this was. When I came home after being examined at the military hospital, I noticed the place had been broken into again. I thought these had been stolen."

Riza shrugged with one shoulder, a half-smile on her face. "I took the liberty of secreting away a few things before we left. Really, Gramps, the panel in the wall? Sometimes you're a little _too_ old-school for my tastes."

"I still have a few surprises, dear…and Gramps?" He raised his eyebrows at her.

"It's growing on me." She paused and then chuckled. "Becca keeps using it now…I think you're stuck with it."

He nodded and then held up the pistol. "Well, thank you. I much prefer that these things weren't found. Though, this is significantly less money than I recall having stored."

"Yeah…about that. We needed cash for our trip into Xing and Aerugo." She shrugged again. "I used my stash too, if that helps." When he went to place the items in a new hiding place, Riza noticed an Aerugonian newspaper on his desk. The story on the front page covered the shoot-out at the warehouse and she could see photos of the ringleader and her mother, along with other prominent ARF members. "So they're really dead…it's really over." She shook her head in disbelief.

"Yes. Are you alright?" Her grandfather returned to his seat at his desk.

Riza nodded. "I think the better question is whether or not _you_ are alright. That woman hasn't been my mother for twenty years, but she's still been your daughter."

"I'll be fine…I only wish I could have helped her somehow. But, part of me thinks she wasn't my daughter anymore, either. The woman who spoke to me during our 'interviews' was not the woman I raised."

She glanced away and then back at Grumman. "Did she ever tell you _why_? Why flame alchemy? Why now? They had enough money in those accounts to fund their crusade for years to come."

Her grandfather caught her eye and there was something there she did not often see: uncertainty. Finally, he nodded and said, "I asked her multiple times, and once she actually answered me. Emily told me she hated that I'd been right about her first husband. She said she came to despise him, that he took _everything_ from her, including her life. After she left, she neither forgave nor forgot, and decided that she had the right to possess flame alchemy and use it as she pleased. In her mind, she'd _earned_ his life's work."

"She never knew I was involved, did she?"

"No, I realized that she'd lost some part of herself. And that telling her about you would _not_ make her see reason, and you'd only be in more danger."

Riza nodded, "Thank you."

"So," her grandfather said, voice taking on a less serious tone. "I've received vacation requests from both you and Mustang. Quite a coincidence, isn't it?"

She eyed Grumman. "I'm not sure what you're implying, _Gramps_."

"Nothing at all, my dear." He lowered his voice and added, "Riza, I always thought something might have happened between you two. Just…" He looked around, exhaled, and then returned his gaze to hers. "Be careful."

"I will, I promise." She nodded and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Ah! I nearly forgot." Grumman reached into the top, right-hand drawer of his desk and removed a manila file folder. He handed it to her with a grin and said, "Welcome back to the land of the living, Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye."

Her eyes widened slightly and a smile spread across her face as she took the folder and surveyed the documents within. "That was fast. How did you…?"

He shrugged. "Being a General has its perks, my dear. Lt. Catalina and I pushed the paperwork through. Your rank, commendations, records, etc. have been applied to your real identity."

They stood and embraced as Riza felt tears welling in her eyes. "Thank you." When they pulled apart she added, "It'll be so strange answering to my own name."

"You'll get used to it."

"I'm hanging on to my other aliases, though."

"I'd expect nothing less," Grumman replied with a knowing grin.

A knock sounded on the front door and Riza quirked her brow quizzically. "I wasn't aware we were expecting company."

Grumman gave a light wave as he made his way toward the stairs. "Ahh…it's nothing big. I just invited a few people over seeing as I'm alive, you're legally yourself, and I heard that Mustang made an interesting deal with General Armstrong." Her grandfather glanced back at her as they descended toward the first floor, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Riza rolled her eyes and smirked. "Who spilled the beans? Havoc?"

Grumman merely smiled and reached for the handle, pulling the door open to reveal General Olivier Armstrong standing on his front porch. Her grandfather offered his hand for her to shake and said, "Good evening, Armstrong. Do come in."

The blonde general took his hand as she entered the foyer and replied with a nod, "Grumman. Thank you." Armstrong then turned her attention to Riza. "It's Hawkeye now…correct?"

"Yes, Riza Hawkeye. It's nice to see you, Olivier." The two women shook hands and then glanced up as another knock came at the door.

* * *

Roy checked his watch as he strolled along the walkway up to General Grumman's front door. He did not know what the plan for the evening was, but he was rather impatient to get Riza alone. Ever since he found out it was her they had been nearly constantly surrounded by other people, and now they were taking time off and actually had the chance to be alone. Instead of driving her to some remote and comfortable getaway, he was walking up to her grandfather's house. Not ideal.

He knocked on the door which was shortly after opened onto a simple yet elegant foyer where General Grumman greeted him. Roy nodded and said, "Sir."

Grumman gestured for him to follow him into the room ahead which turned out to be a cozy living room complete with fireplace and leather armchairs. He felt someone take his hands from behind and remove his ignition gloves and looked questioningly at Grumman. Suddenly, Havoc appeared on his left with a camera and Roy understood exactly what was happening. A moment later, General Armstrong approached him, please smirked glued to her face.

"So, Mustang, you found the General. I didn't think you'd do it. And I now owe Buccaneer money."

Roy gave her his own smirk and said, "You should know better than to bet against me, Armstrong."

With no further ado, her fist shot out and he staggered backward, shaking his head to clear it. Roy heard the click of several cameras in the immediate vicinity capturing the moment on film, along with the laughter of his team. He reflexively brought one of his now released hands up to the side of his face and when he pulled it away he saw blood on his fingertips. Evidently, she had split his lip.

Riza came around to his side, held his gloves out to him, and shrugged, trying to hold back a smile. "Sorry, Colonel. A deal _is_ a deal."

Olivier pushed her hair back over her shoulder and said, "Riza, Becca…I'll see you Friday?"

"Sure thing, Olivier," Riza replied and Roy heard Becca add, "It's gonna be _great_."

Armstrong made her way to the door and Grumman joined her. "General Armstrong, perhaps you'd care to join me for dinner. I'd like you to bring me up to speed."

"Certainly, Grumman." Armstrong exited through the front door and Grumman directed a final wave toward Riza and then followed the other general out.

The rest of the team said their goodbyes and filed out of the house, leaving Roy with Riza in the living room. She approached him, reaching a hand up toward his cheek, and he smiled slightly as he leaned into the gesture. "You didn't _really_ think she'd forget, did you?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "No…but I may have hoped she might." Suddenly Roy's eyes widened with the realization that they now had a free evening, and he had an idea. Grabbing her hand he said, "Hey, come with me."

He led her out the front door, which she locked behind them, and to his car, opening the door for her. When Roy got in on the driver's side she asked him, "Where are we going?"

He turned the key in the ignition and the vehicle roared to life. Glancing in her direction, he told her, "There's someone I want you to meet."

Roy had been notified that Maes arrived in East City earlier that day but he'd not had the time to go see him yet. He drove to his friend's hotel and they exited the car, entering the building and climbing the stairs to Hughes' room. Riza still had an expression of puzzlement on her face but asked no questions as Roy knocked on the hotel room door.

The door swung open and Maes stood before them, several emotions passing over his features in quick succession: surprise, curiosity, relief at seeing his friend alive, and then one that bore some similarity to anger. Before he knew what was going on, Hughes grabbed two fistfuls of Roy's shirt and started yelling: " _What the hell, Roy_?! Where have you been?! Gracia and I have been worried sick. You call me, have some sort of…I don't know…mental break down on the phone. And then I don't hear from you for three weeks!" Suddenly, he pulled back and added, "What happened to your face?"

Riza separated him from his apparent attacker and Roy briefly put a hand on her shoulder. He looked her in the eye and said, "It's ok." Turning his attention to Hughes he added, "Nice to see you too, Maes. Thanks for the greeting. And, Olivier Armstrong happened…May we come in?"

Maes' eyes darted back and forth from Roy to Riza a few times, brow furrowing, as he opened the door far enough to allow them entry. They walked in and sat together at the lone table in the room, Hughes joining them a moment later. When his friend had sat as well, Roy gestured and said, "Riza, this is Maes Hughes, the friend I had looking into some things for me while we were gone." The two shook hands and then Roy saw Hughes' jaw dropped open as his gaze again jumped between the two individuals facing him.

"Riza?…As in, Hawkeye?" Maes asked, slightly confused. "Are you sure, buddy? I recall her being dead."

"We're sure," Riza chimed in as she nodded, a smirk on her lips.

Roy addressed Hughes and said, "That night I hung up on you, Hughes, was the night I figured out she was still alive." With those words he glanced at Riza and then returned his attention to Hughes. "And I'm sorry for worrying you and Gracia, but after that I haven't had much of a chance to call you back…But, I know you're a worrier…I should have called, man."

"Well, Gracia will be relieved. We just found out she's pregnant, by the way. Took the test yesterday." The largest grin Roy had ever seen blossomed on Hughes' face and they stood to hug briefly, slapping each other on the back.

"Congratulations, man. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks." Maes' smile faded slightly as his gaze danced between Roy and Riza once more. "Look, Roy, I know you couldn't tell me much. But she was dead, you thought she might've been murdered…" Hughes turned to Riza and continued. "…and now you're sitting in my hotel room. A little explanation would go a _long_ way."

Roy glanced in her direction since he thought it more appropriate that she decide what Hughes should hear. She met his eyes for a moment and then spoke. "I faked my death a few years ago for reasons I won't get into. Fortunately, those reasons are gone now."

"Wow…you might be even _more_ secretive than Roy."

"For now," Roy interjected. "…it's enough that she's alive, that Grumman is safe, and that there _was_ a threat but now it's gone. I can tell you more if the need arises."

"Fair enough, I suppose. Sorry, man, but I actually need to kick you out. Gracia's expecting my call any second. Are you free tomorrow?" They all stood and slowly strolled in the direction of the door.

"I'm going out of town for a little while…some well-earned vacation. I'll give you a call when I get back."

"Sounds good. Hey, can I speak to you privately for just a minute?" Hughes asked, looking at Roy, as he opened the door for them.

Roy watched his friend for a moment, trying to determine what this might be about. After a thought, he nodded and handed his car keys to Riza, saying, "I'll be down shortly, okay?" She nodded with a small smile and made her way down the corridor toward the stairs and Maes closed the door once more. "What's going on?"

"Is that the woman we talked about in Ishval?" Hughes met his gaze, his expression calm and serious; clearly something concerned him.

"Yes," Roy quietly replied. "What's the problem, Hughes?"

"Look, I've seen you with quite a few women through the years. Many one-night-stands, some you went on a couple dates with…even the few you've sorta _dated_. But I have _never_ seen you act the way you do with her."

" _What_ are you talking about?" Roy asked the question, but he was quickly getting an idea of where this was going.

"You freakin' _adore_ her, man." Hughes raised a hand to put a stop to any protest the other man might make. "I saw the way you look at her…"

"I know," Roy responded as he ran a hand through his hair and nodded.

"I've only been in the room with you two for, what, five or ten minutes? And I already know who the most important person in your world is. And I know what your plans are…where you want to go…but does she? Because that shit, right there, is _dangerous_." With those last few words Hughes' gestured between Roy and the place where Riza had just been standing.

" _I know_." He exhaled and looked at Maes. "I know I'm shooting for the top…and the last thing I'd ever want is for her to be used against me. But, Hughes…I'm not letting her go again."

"You know that I, more than anybody, want you to be happy. And if it's her, that's great, but it can't be so obvious. Just something to think about, man."

"I know you're just looking out for me. But, if it helps, she _is_ the Hawk's Eye." Roy shrugged and gave Hughes a smirk.

"Wait, _the_ Hawk's Eye? She was in Ishval?" Maes chuckled and shook his head. "Well, that _does_ make me feel a little better."

"And she's a phenomenal actress. We just have some things to sort out." Roy opened the door to leave and shoot his friend's hand. "But thanks for looking out…and keeping this quiet."

"Anytime."

Roy strode along the corridor to the stairwell and descended the steps quickly, thinking all the while about his and Maes' conversation. It was something he'd already wanted to discuss with Riza because he saw the danger they'd both been in on their trip to Aerugo. In his opinion, anything they could do to minimize that would make him feel much better.

He walked out the front door of the hotel and directly toward his vehicle, which was already running. Noticing that Riza was in the driver's seat, Roy opened the passenger side door and slid inside. As he secured his seat belt she put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb.

"Where are we going?" Roy asked, curiosity welling within him since earlier she'd asked him to bring a packed bag along.

"You'll see," she said with a rather playful smirk.

* * *

 **AN:** Hello everyone! I'm posting on time this week, yay! Thanks for reading, have a good one, and I hope you like the chapter! :)


	25. Finally Alone

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA.

 **AN:** Hello everyone! This is the final chapter of The Gilded Phoenix! I am thrilled to be completing my first story, but also somewhat saddened that it's over. I want to give a quick shout out to my husband, who was kind enough to read the first several chapters for me...he's so nice. Also, thank you to Alice-in-chucks, jillyzee6, crazyhpcfan, Clic, and waddiwasiwitch: you guys gave me so much feedback on so many chapters and it really helped me to keep writing. And thank you to **everyone ** who read or reviewed or followed/favorited. Any and all support was wonderful to see and please know that it was very much appreciated :)

* * *

 **Finally Alone**

Riza pulled the car along the drive that led to a country house currently owned by one of her aliases. The driveway she followed was lined with towering trees and a light breeze rustled the leaves. Cool night air came in through the partially opened car windows and along with it wafted the scent of grass and trees. It had been dark for a good portion of their drive and lights glinted ahead; she'd set them to a timer, always prepared.

The drive there had driven them crazy as they chatted, occasionally glancing at each other with a grin. The light crackle of gravel sounded under the tires as she brought the vehicle to a stop before the front door of the idyllic cottage. Flowers still bloomed in front of the porch and a paved walkway led from the drive up to the house. Riza turned the car off and the pair exited, picking up their bags and making their way to the door.

She turned the key in the lock and opened the door to let them in, dropping her bag off to the side of the entryway. A moment later, she heard the clunk of Roy's bag hitting the floor and he was already pinning her against the door as she closed it with her foot. Soft lips met and Riza shook her jacket off, his fingertips trailing up her sides in the process of pulling off her top. Her hands found his chest and then wrapped around to his back as they kissed and her heart pounded. He trailed kisses down her neck and she pushed his coat off his shoulders, tossing it on the floor.

Gently pushing Roy backward in the direction of the bedroom, she reclaimed his lips and deftly worked her way down the line of buttons on his shirt. They kicked off their shoes and she felt Roy wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close, his other hand cradling her head. She slipped her hands into his open shirt, ran her hands up his abdomen, and then tore his shirt off and pushed him onto the bed.

Placing a knee on either side of him, she leaned down and kissed up his chest to his mouth, her fingers clenching in his hair as his hands ran over back. Chests collided and the contact of his skin practically set hers on fire. She grabbed one of his hands, threading their fingers together, and a soft moan slipped out, but she could not be sure from whom. Hooking her leg around his hip, Riza rolled them over and Roy reached down to unbutton her jeans.

* * *

The next morning, Riza smiled as she slipped out of bed and donned a t-shirt and shorts. Quietly treading out toward the kitchen to make coffee, she thought about how nice it was to be waking up next to him again. It was not that long ago that she assumed such a thing would never happen again. She measured out coffee grounds and put the requisite amount of water in the machine, setting it to brew and placing two clean mugs on the counter.

She opened the back door that led to a small patio and stood at the edge to look out over the backyard. The morning sun was warm on her face, birds were beginning to sing, and drops of condensation still clung to blades of grass. It had been too long since Riza had been able to escape for a while, so she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She smiled again when she felt two arms encircle her from behind and she leaned against him, resting her head in the crook of his neck.

"Are you ever going to tell me where we are?" Roy asked, kissing the top of her head.

She chuckled lightly in response. "It's just a little place one of my other identities bought last year. I needed somewhere I could go to still be myself…a getaway."

"It's beautiful. Do you think I could get a copy of the key?" He held her a touch more tightly.

"That depends."

"On?"

"On whatever we decide is going to happen now that we're back." A soft beep indicated that the coffee was done. Riza turned in his arms, kissed him, and led the way back into the house. She filled both mugs and handed him one, at which point they returned to the patio and took a seat at the table there.

They looked at each other for a moment and then Roy spoke. "I've been thinking about this." He paused to take a sip and met her gaze again. "You know what my plans are."

"Yes, and I think if anyone can do it, you can." She nodded as she drank from her mug.

"I want you to watch my back…and shoot it if I ever stray from my path." He sipped his coffee and looked around at the scenery as if he had not just mentioned her potentially killing him.

Riza's eyes widened slightly and she watched him; he was completely serious. "Well, Roy…"

He held up a hand and looked her in the eye. "Just…hear me out. I trust you more than anyone else, and I'm fairly certain you feel the same about me. You could never be the wife that waits for me to come home from dangerous missions. You'd rather be _on_ the missions…and I'd prefer it that way, too. We work well together; we can protect each other. And…sure…we'd have to skirt some rules and regs but…"

"Roy," she interrupted him and held up _her_ hand. "I was merely going to warn you that I _will_ be disobeying any orders that I deem idiotic or detrimental to your well-being." She shrugged with a half-smile and took a drink of her coffee.

His expression of mild surprise quickly turned into a pleased grin. "Really? You're in?"

"Don't be stupid, Roy, of course I'm in. _Someone_ needs to make sure you don't get yourself killed." She rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"Hold on," he replied. "I'll be right back." Her brow furrowed with curiosity when he jumped from his chair and moved quickly back into the house. Riza could hear him rummaging around in his bag for something and then his footsteps came back to the patio. A second later he was outside and standing in front of her, pulling her to her feet. A thin chain dangled from his fingers, glinting in the sunlight, and from it hung an elegant band of white gold. "It was my mother's," he softly said. "And I want you to have it." Her lips parted, turned upward slightly at the corners as she looked from him, to the ring, and back again, taking in the full meaning his offer.

He carefully clasped the chain at the back of her neck and the ring felt cool against her chest. She picked it up with her fingertips, gazing at it, and then lifted her eyes to meet his with a smile. "It's lovely. Thank you."

They kissed and Roy pulled her into his arms, saying quietly, "I wish I could give you more."

Riza knew that the 'more' he referred to was not jewelry or other gifts, and she could tell he was lamenting the fact that their goals would keep them from the life they could have. She distanced herself slightly and placed her hands on either side of his face, looking into his eyes. "Roy, I want a life with you…whatever that may be. There are things I regret, but this decision will _never_ be among them."

He nodded. "Riza, I…"

"I know." She grinned again. "I do, too."

"I know." They kissed and her hair started to stand on end once more, hand clenching around his arm. Riza broke away again, enjoying the look of keen disappointment on his face when she did so. Instead of pulling him toward her, she smiled while biting her lip and slipped her shirt over her head. She backed away, dropping the top to the ground, and when she was once more standing in the kitchen she let her shorts fall to the floor. Roy smirked and followed her trail of clothing, creating one of his own, all the way to the bed.

Much later, their limbs still intertwined, Riza finally asked him something that had been on her mind for quite some time. She ran her fingertips up his arm and said, "Roy, I need you to do something for me."

He looked at her, clearly curious. "Alright."

"At the risk of ruining this mood…" She cleared her throat and raised her eyes to his. "I'd like you to burn off the most important parts of the tattoo."

Roy's eyes widened and he stiffened as she saw a brief look of horror flash across his face. She tightened her grip on him, hoping he was not about to extricate himself from their current position. Regaining control of his expressions, he shook his head, "I…I can't do that to you. _Why_ would you…?"

"I'm sorry…I know it's a terrible request. And to spring this on you now...well…I wasn't trying to soften you up or anything. I've been meaning to talk to you about this and _that_ just sort of happened." She could not help but smile again at the thought.

"I know," he breathed, still coming to terms with what she'd suggested.

Riza took a breath and continued. "Please, Roy. I can't have it removed professionally, because then someone else would see it. And I _can't_ keep living with these secrets on my back." She glanced away, gathering her thoughts. "Look how close the ARF came to flame alchemy. And when they were digging up graves? I _know_ you were worried about them finding the tattoo. It's just another potential danger that _we don't need_."

She watched him as he thought about her request and her arguments in favor of it. After a good deal of consideration, he reluctantly nodded and said, "Okay. I'm not crazy about it, but I understand." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, as if to protect them both.

Riza closed her eyes momentarily in relief. "Thank you." Cupping his face with her free hand, they kissed and she placed her forehead on his. "I'm so sorry. But _thank you_."

* * *

A few weeks later, Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye returned to work at Eastern HQ, ascending familiar stairs and striding purposefully down well-known hallways. It was early in the morning, and she was making her way toward her grandfather's office along with Lieutenant Rebecca Catalina. The burns on her back were mostly healed, and now caused her only an occasional, mild discomfort. Roy had managed to permanently disfigure the most integral areas and symbols while keeping scarred skin to a minimum.

He may not admit it directly, but she got the feeling he was also rather relieved that she was no longer a walking record of flame alchemy. It gave her a great sense of freedom, and she thought he felt that a little as well. She and Roy remained the only two living people that knew about the tattoo, and the burns that now went with it. Riza had never told her grandfather or Becca, and she decided this was one secret better taken with her to the grave.

Becca's voice tore her from her reverie. "I can't _believe_ you're leaving me. This is bullshit."

Riza chuckled. "I'll miss working with you too, Bec. But I'll still be around HQ. And I'll pull you in on missions every chance I get."

" _Deal_. And just so we're clear, I get you for lunch at least three days a week. _And_ I get you every other Friday night." Becca inserted the key and let them into Grumman's office.

"So now I'm being fought over?" she laughed, following her friend through the door and depositing her bag on her already empty desk.

Becca waved her hand in mock dismissal. "I'll just iron out custody arrangements with Mustang during my break today." She paused as Riza chuckled and then added, "Oh, before I forget, we have another date with Olivier next Friday…she's coming into town one more time."

"Sounds good. And speaking of dates…isn't tonight date number two?"

"Yes!" Becca's face lit up with a smile. "The official second date. Jean won't tell me _anything_. He says it's a surprise…Why? Do you know something?" In her eyes Riza could see curiosity and her normal zeal for gossip.

"No, but even if I did I wouldn't tell you. Let it be a surprise, dammit." She shook her head with a smile. "You just have to know everything, don't you?"

"It's a point of pride. For instance, I know you really have your work cut out for you. Jean tells me that Mr. Flame stupidly throws himself into a lot of dangerous situations."

"At least I'll never be bored, right?" They shared a smile. "And hey, drinks at your place while you get ready for your date?"

"Of course! I can't be expected to get ready all alone with no alcohol. That's _madness_."

Suddenly, the door to Grumman's inner office began to open from the inside and Riza drew one of her pistols, aiming it toward the door; she heard Becca do the same. The General popped out, confusion evident on his face at such a reception. The two women quickly returned their weapons to their holsters and saluted. "At ease, ladies. And good morning. In my office, please." They followed him in and he continued, "A little jumpy this morning?"

"Not at all, General," Riza replied. "We're just unaccustomed to punctuality on your part."

Grumman chuckled. "That's fair, I suppose, Lieutenant. Now, I believe we have some business to attend to." Riza stepped forward and handed him the final form regarding her transfer to Colonel Mustang's team, effective that day. The General accepted it, nodded, and then hugged his granddaughter. "I'm sorry to lose you, my dear. But that boy _does_ need all the help he can get. You let me know if you need anything."

"I will, General," she nodded, tears welling in her eyes. When Becca approached her they hugged as well. "We'll still be seeing each other."

"I know," Becca replied. "But this is kinda the end of an era."

"Fair enough," she laughed.

"Now," Grumman said. "You're both coming for dinner next week, correct?"

"Of course." The two women replied, nearly in unison.

"Wonderful. Now, off to work you two. I have a headquarters to run." The General winked and the three dispersed, each off to their respective assignments.

Riza grabbed her bag off her desk and exited the General's offices, directing her steps towards Colonel Mustang's office suite. She entered, dropped the bag on her new desk and waved at the team saluting her to be at ease. With a quick knock, she walked into Roy's office and saluted crisply, saying, "Good morning, Colonel."

"Good morning, Lieutenant. At ease." He took the form she handed to him and glanced over it before dropping it on the top of his desk. "Welcome to the team, Hawkeye."

"Thank you, sir."

"Just a couple things. Next week I need you to travel with me to Resembool. I want to investigate an alchemist that reportedly lives there."

"Yes, sir."

"Also, we already have another assignment. It has come to our attention that an especially prolific cell of a smuggling ring is operating within East City. We are to investigate, assess the threat, and shut it down. Do you think you can handle a little undercover work, Lieutenant?" He smirked.

"Certainly, sir."

They shared a look that lasted barely a moment and he said, "Please bring in the rest of the team."

"Yes, sir." Riza strode to the door, opened it, and said, "Meeting time."

When they were all assembled, Roy began. "As you all know, Lieutenant Hawkeye has joined our team as my second-in-command."

What followed was a chorus of, "Hey, Hawkeye!" and "Welcome to the team!"

"Thank you," she replied with a nod and a close-lipped smile.

"Now," Roy continued. "To our newest assignment."

* * *

Later that evening, Riza relaxed on the couch in her new apartment, a glass of wine on the table nearby, and reviewed some of the files pertaining to the smuggling ring that was to be their target. They had spent a good portion of the day tracking down leads and making arrangements for a first-stage reconnaissance of the group. Overall, the first day in her new position had been wonderful, though somewhat strange at the same time. She was looking forward to working more with team Mustang seeing as they had been able to function well together during their recent ARF/rescue mission.

She glanced sporadically at the clock and wondered how Becca's 'second official date' with Jean was going. Generally, Riza waited until a certain time and called her friend with a fake emergency in case she needed an escape from the date. With Havoc, however, she figured that particular service was likely not required. Taking a sip of wine, her hand wandered to the ring now hanging on a chain around her neck, and she smiled. Riza had never dreamt they would be back in each other's lives in such a monumental way. Everything was substantially different from her life just a couple months prior, but she felt this change was beneficial.

She turned her head toward the entryway when she heard the scrape of a key being inserted into the lock. Reflexively, she reached for the pistol laying near her and picked it up, eyeing the doorway. The door opened fully and Roy walked in, raising his eyebrows slightly and smirking when he saw a gun aimed in his direction. "Really? Isn't that a bit much?" He half-turned to lock the door, engage the deadbolt, and put the chain in place.

Riza shrugged, set the weapon back down on the table, and picked up her wine instead. "Some call it paranoia. I call it common sense."

He chuckled as he shrugged out of his coat, slipped off his shoes, and dropped his bag on the floor. He walked over to her with a smile, which she returned as she took a sip. When he reached her, Roy leaned down to kiss her and then joined her on the couch, taking possession of her wine and putting an arm around her shoulders.

"So, how was the Lieutenant's first day?" He asked her after taking a drink.

"I think it went well. How was your meeting with Hughes?"

"It was exactly what I expected. Most of the time he talked about his wife and how beautiful and pregnant she is. Then we fit in a little about work." Roy sipped again and shrugged.

"He irritates you. I think I'm gonna like him." Riza took the glass from him, drained it, and then straddled him, meeting his eyes as she started to remove his shirt. "No one saw you come in?"

"Definitely not." His gaze flicked to her lips and back up to her eyes, a smile growing on his face, and his hands started to travel up her legs. "All the shades are drawn?"

"Naturally." Riza kissed his neck and heard his sharp intake of breath; his hands found her waist.

She untucked his shirt and opened it, softly placing a kiss on his lips and then pulling back. They shared a small smile and she felt his arms tighten around her waist. This was so much more than they ever expected, or imagined, and now they knew better than to waste anything. Because sometimes terrorist organizations kidnap people, or other equally ridiculous things happen.

Riza leaned in, and they kissed.

Fin

* * *

 **AN:** Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it, and have a great day! :)


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